


In The Garden

by Pendragyn



Series: Ineffable Bastards Universe [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Angst, Aziraphale and Crowley Met Before The Fall (Good Omens), BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I love these ineffable dorks, I think I'm hilarious anyway, Loose Canon, Mythology - Freeform, Nonbinary Aziraphale (Good Omens), Nonbinary Celestials, Nonbinary Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Canon: Good Omens, Pre-Fall (Good Omens), Wing Grooming, Wingfic, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pendragyn/pseuds/Pendragyn
Summary: [WARNING - BIG CHANGES INCOMING. The overarching story is going to stay pretty much the same, no worries there.]There were two angels sent to guard the Garden of Eden. They had never been meant to be friends, those two odd angels that didn’t quite fit in. Their bosses had expected them to be wary of one another, to even be sworn enemies one day; all part of the Great Plan. Perhaps they should have told them that. Or perhaps not.





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically world building for a much longer fic of what happens after the world doesn't end; Ineffable Bastards. It sorta has a life of its own now. I'm in the midst of rewriting at least the first chapter, (as of April 2020) mostly because I'm sad and I can. 
> 
> Anyway, here is my very self indulgent fic of how Aziraphale and Crawly meet, become friends and (spoilers) have to leave the garden. Their story continues after they return to Heaven in "Serpents And Ladders"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a Garden in need of Guarding, and two angels have been singled out for the duty. 
> 
> [Edited 28 Feb 2020: more continuity edits and fixed yet more typos.]

There was the barest light of dawn, and the scent of green growing things, and the scent of both flowers and ripening fruit. The angel climbed carefully to their feet with the help of a large root from the massive Tree they were laying under, trying to get used to being bound inside a corporeal form, feeling so very confused. They recognized the Garden, and the Tree, they _knew_ the Tree in their soul, but everything else felt fuzzy and distant. And their wings ached terribly, a sensation they had never experienced before.

The angel unfurled their wings, feeling a frightening moment of unfamiliarity at the stark white plumage. There was a sudden sense of pressure, of presences and Aziraphale shifted their wings into a neutral pose to keep their uncertainty and fear hidden.

“Ah, there you are Aziraphale!”

The angel jumped and turned to the voice, squinting up at the bright unearthly being, a name coming up through the fuzziness. “G- Gabriel?” They looked around, but none of the others made themselves visible, though they fluttered against the edges of Aziraphale’s senses.

“Archangel Gabriel,” the other angel corrected sharply. “I suppose I should have figured you’d forget. Gravity,” they laughed, as though that explained everything. “Does weird things to a being I’ve heard. You’ll get used to it. Do you know who you are now?”

Aziraphale looked away from the archangel, staring down at their hands, at the white linen garments embroidered with golden swirls. “I, no, I’m afraid I don’t,” they admitted in a small voice.

Gabriel let out an annoyed noise. “You’re Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Keeper of the _Tree of Knowledge and Life,_ that last bit is new, though really why the Almighty would even let you have that… Anyway, hope you like your new wings, we decided they suited our brand better. Oh, yes,” the archangel hummed, and suddenly an item dropped to the moss in front of Aziraphale. “This is to help you guard the Tree. Orders from the Almighty.”

Aziraphale focused on the ancient sword. This was another thing the angel knew in their very soul and they carefully picked it up and unsheathed it. But the connection the angel knew should be there was gone, and the sullen red fire that lit along the bronze blade was not as it should have been. “Did, is there anything else?” Aziraphale asked hopefully.

Gabriel made a dismissive noise. “Why would there be? You’re to guard the Garden and the Tree. It’s very basic, I mean, even _you_ can’t mess that up.”

Aziraphale cringed at the derogatory tone. “Yes, right, guard the Garden,” they said, sheathing the sword and tying the belt around their waist.

“Another angel will be showing up at some point,” said Gabriel. “They’ll guard during the night so you can rest. The Almighty is big on rest. I wouldn’t expect them to be overly friendly, one of Archangel Beelzebub’s lot, taken to being rather adversarial of late,” and then they were all gone.

Aziraphale blinked and shook their head, trying to remember more from before, but it was like a fog was clouding their mind. “Must be the gravity,” the angel said aloud, just to get used to the sound of their own voice. The only other sounds were the wind through the greenery and distantly the sound of the spring that watered the Garden.

Aziraphale walked through the Garden without much purpose in mind, eventually expending some magic to get up onto the giant stone wall. It separated the Garden from the rest of what they knew was Eden, though they didn’t remember why or how they knew that. From the height Aziraphale could look over the entire Garden, and to the massive Tree that towered over everything else which they could see was actually two trees grown together. The lower branches, from the Tree of Knowledge, were heavy with flowers and ripening fruits of innumerable types while the upper, the Tree of Life, held neither flowers nor fruit that the angel could see.

As the sun lowered in the sky Aziraphale returned to the Tree, caution slowing their steps when they sensed another presence and heard voices. It was another archangel and Aziraphale hesitated behind a bush where they could overhear what they were saying. _Oh, this isn’t nice of me, but I really don’t want to deal with another archangel. Maybe if I just wait here, they’ll go away?_

“So,” said the archangel, “another guard was required and we’ve decided on you.”

“O-oh, yeah, sure. Who am I guarding it from? Why do I need to be _corporeal_?” There was the sound of thrashing and a thump. “Ow.”

The archangel laughed. “You’re guarding it from the others, who are from outside Eden. You need a body to effect the world, but you can shift your form to meet your needs.” With a sneer the archangel said, “Snakes should suit you. Given your nature.”

“Ha ha. That’s a low blow, even from you, Hastur.”

“I’m not the one being cast down into the dirt, _Crawly._ I wonder what that other angel did to end up being stuck here with you? I don’t expect they’ll be any happier with your incessant questions, especially being one of Gabriel’s. Love following all the rules, and making sure everyone else does too, that lot. Probably tattled on the wrong angel one time too many.”

The other angel didn’t rise to the taunting. “So what am I supposed to do? During the day?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care! You’re stuck here and we’ll finally have some quiet again!” There was another laugh and then silence and the pressure of their presence vanished completely.

Aziraphale waited to make sure the archangel was going to stay gone and cautiously stepped out of the underbrush, taking in the sight of the first other corporeal being they’d ever seen, that they could remember. The other angel was very angular, all elbows and knees somehow, with yellow eyes and long curly hair that matched some of the ripening fruit of the Tree, and somehow Aziraphale felt as though they knew them. “Oh, uh, hello?”

The other angel gasped and jumped, unfurling their black wings slightly in alarm. They stared at Aziraphale, seeing a plump white haired being with eyes that seemed to change color from gold, to blue, to green and stark white wings held in a cautiously welcoming pose. They felt drawn to take a step closer. “Who are you?”

Aziraphale sheepishly drew their eyes away from the other angel’s dark iridescent feathers. “I’m, um, I’m Aziraphale. The other guard. What’s your name?”

“Oh, they call me Crawly,” they answered reluctantly, peering at Aziraphale curiously. “Do I know you? I feel like I know you from somewhere.”

“I- I don’t know,” Aziraphale admitted, unconsciously moving closer to Crawly. “You seem really familiar too. Being in a body makes us forget things it seems. Something to do with gravity?”

“Hmm, yes, gravity... important isn’t it? I feel like I should be able to remember…”

“Yes, I’ve been feeling that a lot.” They continued to stare curiously at one another and it was Aziraphale who couldn’t help but ask, “So, uh, I couldn’t help but overhear, you can change your shape? That sounds really interesting!”

“Apparently. Haven’t really tried it yet.” Crawly tried a shrug and liked it. “Could’ve given us a bit more guidance on how to use these things, couldn’t they?” They looked down at themself and bumped their fists against their thighs. “Legs, good to have legs again,” they mumbled.

Aziraphale nodded in confusion but said, “I guess they want us to figure it out on our own?”

“And if we break them? I’m sure they’ll give a good scolding for that, never mind they never told us how to keep it going. Breaking them _hurts_ by the way.”

Aziraphale wanted to protest but Crawly had a valid point, so they copied the black-winged angel’s shrug. “I have a sword, if you want to borrow it. You know, when you’re guarding.”

“Sword, sword- long cutty thing, yeah? Haven’t seen one of those before. What’s it look like?”

Aziraphale unbelted it from their waist and held it up to show them before unsheathing it, getting it to flame to life without much thought.

“Ooh, that’s something,” said Crawly, backing away. “I don’t think that will be necessary, will it? Seems a bit excessive, cutting things and setting them on fire at the same time. Probably just one would be good enough, eh? And I mean, chance of setting the plants on fire by accident, yeah?”

Aziraphale was relieved to extinguish the sword, disliking it more and more the longer they held it. “That is a good point. What do you think I should do with it?”

“What do I think?” Crawly was pretty sure no one had ever sincerely asked for their opinion before. It felt like a trap. “Uh, you could just leave it by the Tree, I mean, that’s the important part of the Garden, right? But maybe hide it, so only you can find it?” _And I can’t be blamed if it goes missing._

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion. “That’s an excellent idea. Oh, but you should be able to find it too. If something happens to me, you might need it, and I’d feel terrible if you couldn’t find it. I mean, we’re in this together, right?”

Crawly’s wariness shifted ever so slightly into something like intrigue. “Yeah, sure, together.”

Aziraphale graced them with the full power of a joyous smile, but reached out in concern when Crawly’s eyes went wide and they swayed a little. “Ooh, are you all right? Did the gravity get you?”

Crawly shook their head, pressing a hand to their chest in confusion, over where their new heart was suddenly beating very fast and the strangest little ache had developed. “Maybe? I’m really not sure about this whole corporeal thing, to be honest. And look at what they did to my wings-”

“They’re quite lovely,” said Aziraphale, smile fading when Crawly frowned disbelievingly. “I mean it, with that whatsit, iridescence, I could just look at them for ages. They look very soft to the touch.” Aziraphale felt their face get hot with mortification when Crawly’s eyebrows went upward in surprise and they realized how those words could be taken. “I just mean, they’re very pretty, I would never touch, I mean, not without permission, not that you’d want to give me permission,” the white-winged angel said, laughing miserably, pressing a hand to the sharp little stab of pain over their heart. “This is why none of the other angels like me. I always say the wrong thing.”

Crawly felt that sentiment down to their core, and some more of their apprehension faded. “Oh, I don’t know, Aziraphale, I rather liked it actually. You just need more practice talking to people. We’ll have lots of time for you to get better at it.”

“Oh, well, well thank you Crawly, that really is the nicest thing to say! I was so worried we wouldn’t get on,” Aziraphale admitted, thinking of their fuzzy memories of interacting with the other angels, which mostly consisted of feeling small and ridiculed and disdained.

Crawly made a face, thinking of their own fuzzy memories, of being avoided and laughed at. “Same,” they agreed. “Well, that’s a bright side, I suppose, isn’t it? Won’t be seeing them much if we’re in these,” the black-winged angel said, tapping themself over the heart.

“That is a very good point, my dear.”

Those words sent another little inexplicable twinge around Crawly’s heart. “My wot?”

Aziraphale felt their face get hot again. The words had just slipped out, as though they’d been saying them to Crawly since before forever. “Ah, oh, uh, it’s a term of end- to, uh, convey friendship. I mean, if you don’t mind-”

“No no, friends, yeah, I’d like that. Yah, no, I thought you meant the animal, with the,” Crawly held their hands up to their forehead to represent horns.

Aziraphale laughed in relief that Crawly seemed unoffended by their presumption. “No, no, they’re homophones but not nearly the same thing.”

“Homo-what now?”

“Homophones, means words that sound alike when spoken but mean different things.”

Crawly just stared in amazement. “How do you know that?”

Aziraphale opened their mouth and closed it again with a frown. “I have no idea. I really am not fond of this gravity nonsense messing with my mind, I have to say.”

Crawly made a few noises of agreement and nodded. “So where do you want to put the sword?” The two angels considered the area. The ground around the base of the Tree was covered in a blanket of moss interspersed between the huge roots, offering no real cover to keep the sword hidden. The Tree though, with its two ancient intertwined trunks and many branches, seemed like a more likely option. “What about in the Tree itself?” Crawly asked.

Aziraphale made a face. “Ooh, I don’t know, I’m not sure they’d approve. I mean, we’re supposed to be guarding it...”

“Right, right, but then the sword is right here, if you really need to slice and singe something.”

Aziraphale considered and finally gave in, having no better idea of their own. “But where?” they asked. “Need to be able to find it again.”

“True.” Crawly began to circle the base of the Tree, catching Aziraphale off guard and making the white-winged angel scramble to catch up. “Ow, bugger, these rooty things are, gah!” Crawly’s foot slipped on one of the roots and Aziraphale tried to catch them, but the uneven ground only toppled them as well, and they twisted with surprising agility so that they landed beneath Crawly, breaking their fall. They both had the wind knocked out of them and they laid in a tangled pile for a long moment, their breath mingling as they stared into one another's eyes.

“Did you know your eyes change color?” Crawly whispered, afraid to move and ruin the lovely sensations caused by being held so close to the white-winged angel. They could feel each breath, and the pounding of their heart, and Crawly felt themself tremble.

“Oh, uh, no...” Aziraphale was very distracted by their body reacting all sorts of ways to the contact with black-winged angel, and emotions and urges they didn’t even have words for yet were flooding their senses. They found themself staring at Crawly’s flame-bright eyes, and at their lips when they spoke again.

“They’re very pretty,” Crawly murmured, feeling as though they were drowning in sunlight, staring into Aziraphale’s golden eyes, intrigued by the blush staining their cheeks. They found themself beginning to relax into the embrace and they both gasped when their blackened wings, which the angels had both splayed out in a futile effort to keep from falling, brushed against Aziraphale’s. The contact was shockingly intimate as their outer and inner auras brushed against one another in that brief moment, the celestial version of a chaste kiss.

While non-corporeal, a celestial’s wings are just part of their manifestation (how they project themselves to the consciousness of others), no more or less sensitive than the rest of their being, and it’s impossible for inner auras to touch by accident. But while corporeal, their wings are far more than mere metaphor or decoration, they are a channel for their powers and their inner and outer auras to move between the ethereal and the corporeal world when needed. But no one had bothered to tell them that, or much of anything really.

“Sorry, sorry!” Crawly’s auras instinctively recoiled at the trespass and they scrambled back to their feet and tightly furled their wings. “I didn’t know!”

Aziraphale stared up at them with wide eyes, heart racing, trying to get their breath back. “I didn’t either. I, I’m sorry too.”

Crawly shook their head at their apology and almost reached out to help Aziraphale climb to their feet before snatching their hands away in mortification. “Are you hurt? You’re not, are you? Saved me from a rather nasty fall.”

Aziraphale nodded and shook their head, flicking their wings in an effort to settle their feathers back into place, trying to ignore their tumultuous feelings over what had happened. It had been shocking, and exhilarating, and while their own auras had also instinctively recoiled at the unexpected contact, they found themself feeling unexpectedly bereft. “This gravity thing is a menace, really, who thought it was a good idea?” They risked a look at Crawly, whose brows were drawn together in worry. “I’m fine, Crawly, really. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Crawly frowned a little, wanting to say something but not having the words to say what they were feeling and after a few false starts said, “I dunno, I mean, is it? It feels like it is, like it’s important, but everything’s so queer...”

“Well it is if we decide it is,” said Aziraphale firmly, shivering their wings again, annoyed by the disadvantages of corporeal form and at themself for feeling so odd and making things so awkward. “Couldn’t let you to get hurt, my dear, wasn’t anything else for it.”

Crawly felt a twinge of dismay, staring at the ruffled feathers on Aziraphale’s shimmering white wings and the stiffness in their shoulders that hadn’t been there before. They hesitated, not wanting to admit it was fear they were feeling at the idea of making themself vulnerable by asking to touch Aziraphale’s wings. The presumption could go very badly, could ruin whatever chance there was of them actually being friends. There was a lot of importance and ceremony involved in gaining the trust of another celestial to be allowed to actually touch (mingle outer auras with) them. It wasn’t something you asked for after a moment’s conversation. But the third shiver through the angel’s wings only ruffled the feathers more and Crawly decided to risk it. “Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale looked around at the seriousness of Crawly’s tone. “Yes? You’re not hurt are you? I didn’t even think to ask-”

A fleeting smile dashed across Crawly’s lips before they settled back into a serious line. “No, I’m alright, but… will you let me return the favor?”

Aziraphale frowned in confusion, eyes going wide when Crawly lifted their hands and hesitantly gestured towards Aziraphale’s wings and more overwhelming and nameless feelings swept over them. “Oh! But-”

“You saved me from a nasty fall,” Crawly interjected, afraid of what Aziraphale might say. “Might’ve broken something. That’s a pretty big debt I owe you. I mean, it’s just a few twisted feathers, a bit of sssmoothing, take but a moment, hardly anything compared to what you did for me, really.” Crawly found themself holding their breath, watching Aziraphale’s face but unable to read the thoughtful expression the white-winged angel was wearing, terrified as the silence continued to drag on. “So, uh, what do you sssay?”

Crawly’s heart sank when Aziraphale turned away, only for it to leap against their ribcage when the angel unfurled their wings completely and arched them around until Crawly was almost cocooned among the shimmering white feathers.

Aziraphale’s heart had somehow climbed into their throat and was lodged there. It felt as though every nerve in their body was alive with static or bees or something that buzzed and sizzled and it took all their concentration to keep quiet and still as Crawly stepped closer, to not react to the tentative touch of Crawly’s fingers fixing the feathers closest to Aziraphale’s back first. The white-winged angel wasn’t sure if they were relieved or disappointed that the touch of their hands wasn’t nearly as intense as the brush of auras, but it was still rather pleasant and surprisingly soothing.

Crawly was enthralled by the feeling of Aziraphale’s shimmering silken feathers slipping through their fingers, at how soothing the motion was. Part of them felt they could do it forever and never tire of it. Wondered, hoped, it was pleasing for Aziraphale too. The dust was falling away from the feathers almost before Crawly touched them, except for an oddly stubborn spot hidden beneath the coverts that they felt more than saw, and they took extra care, gently working their fingers through the feathers bit by bit until a cloud a shimmering dust fell away and vanished as though it had never been.

Aziraphale might not remember much, but they knew the other angels disapproved of their chattiness, of their effusiveness and they stayed frozen as Crawly worked their fingers over their feathers. _Angels are supposed to be quiet and reserved and-_ they couldn’t stop their whole body relaxing and the relieved sigh that escaped when Crawly fixed the worst of the twisted feathers and even the lingering ache that had plagued them all day was gone.

Crawly froze, afraid they’d done something wrong, terrified they’d hurt Aziraphale in some way, not knowing what _could_ hurt them. Especially since neither of them had experience with being corporeal and no one had bothered to tell them what to expect. “Aziraphale?”

“That was the worst spot,” admitted Aziraphale, voice cracking, struggling to talk around the lump still in their throat. _Don’t stop,_ Aziraphale wanted to say. “You don’t have to-”

“Almost done,” Crawly said, trying to steady their shaking hands as they ran them ever so lightly over Aziraphale’s last few ruffled feathers and reluctantly withdrew, somehow their whole body aching at the loss of contact. “Miss any?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and slowly let it out before letting their wings slowly furl back closed, maybe letting the primaries brush against Crawly’s the slightest bit, terrified at their own audacity. “No, my dear, all settled,” they said huskily, worried at what Crawly’s reaction would be to their overture. Not that the white-winged angel had ever actually flirted with anyone before, but they knew what to do, in theory. They were hazy on how to apply the knowledge of auras and firmaments to being inside of a corporeal form, but surely brushing their aura-less feathers together was a politer overture than touching auras again, even if it were just outer instead of both.

When the silence dragged on Aziraphale began to panic. _That was terribly forward, I must have jumped to the wrong conclusions, clearly they weren’t trying to show their interest by asking to touch-_ Crawly cleared their throat and Aziraphale finally made themself turn to look. The black-winged angel’s face was almost as red as their hair but there was a tentatively hopeful and very vulnerable look in their eyes.

“I, um, well, it was just a few feathers, ssso, you know, I clearly still owe you, like, a lot,” stammered Crawly, reading the hopefulness in Aziraphale’s smile, feeling a thrill to know the caress had been on purpose. “So, well, when you want me, uh, to, you know...”

“Uh, yes, I will let you know. It, uh, felt rather lovely,” Aziraphale said, a massive weight lifting with the black-winged angel’s positive reaction.

“Maybe you could return the favor one day,” Crawly murmured, watching the white-winged angel through their lashes, smiling a little when they pinkened. “After my debt’s been discharged.”

“Oh, yes, right, right, well… Where were we? Um? Right, the sword.” Aziraphale began to look around, feeling the beginnings of panic when they couldn’t find it anywhere nearby.

Crawly began looking as well, something making them think to look up. “Found it.”

Aziraphale looked to where they pointed, biting their lip when they spotted it among the branches overhead. “Oh dear. How did I manage that?”

“Hmm, that is a problem.” They stared at it together for a long moment. “Well, this shape can barely stay upright, dunno how we’d get all the way up there. I suppose I could try the shape shifting thing?”

“Oh, oh! Would you? That is really very nice of you Crawly.”

“Eh, nothing nice about it, we’re in this together, said it yourself. Anyway, doesn’t nice mean precise or something?” Crawly sat down on the ground, figuring that if it their body was likely to fall over on its own anyway, in the middle of trying something new was probably when it would happen.

Aziraphale immediately sat down with them, eyes bright with curiosity. “Oh, yes, but it also means polite, at least, I think it does. In any case, you’re being very kind.”

Crawly looked at the white-winged angel sidelong, for a moment wondering if anyone could really be that sweet, but there was a guilelessness to Aziraphale that made it hard to believe they could be devious. “You’re easy to be kind to, Aziraphale.” They grinned when the white-winged angel blushed. “So, Hastur suggested a snake, what do you think?”

Aziraphale considered and had to admit, “I don’t know that I remember what they look like?”

“They’re uh, long and uh, snakey? Might just be easier to show you.” It took a moment of concentrating and their form expanded and shifted into that of a black snake easily three times their height, with the same bright yellow slit-pupiled eyes Crawly had in their bipedal form.

Aziraphale reared back in surprise, then leaned forward again, intrigued. “That’s amazing! A little off putting, but still, amazing! Oh, I assume you can understand me? Crawly?”

“Yesss,” Crawly hissed, tasting the air. “Oh, that’sss useful, wasn’t sssure I’d be able to talk like thisss. Now let’sss see...” They wiggled about, getting the hang of a very different form of locomotion than walking before slithering over to the Tree.

It took a few tries before Crawly could get up to the branch, Aziraphale hovering anxiously below them, ready to catch them when they slipped, but climb they did, and a few moments later they carefully bit down on the belt and lowered it down to Aziraphale.

“Oh thank you!” cried the white-winged angel, catching the sword and setting it down before holding their arms out to Crawly. “I’ll help you down.”

Crawly flicked their tongue in surprise and eased themself lower so they could slither onto Aziraphale’s arm and shoulders. “Thanksss angel. Brace yourself,” they warned, startled when the white-winged angel went still as stone, moving not at all when Crawly’s tail slipped from the tree and their entire not-insignificant weight shifted onto Aziraphale.

Aziraphale gently set them down and picked up the sword again, beaming at Crawly as they shifted back into bipedal form. “That was quite clever. I definitely owe you for that.”

“You, you think so? I mean, happy to help.” Another shrug but they were smiling widely. “We really should find a place to keep it before it gets fully dark.”

“Maybe… if we hold hands, we can keep each other from falling too much?” Aziraphale suggested hopefully, holding out their left hand.

“Oh, that’s smart, good idea, angel.” Crawly accepted, pretending that a blush wasn’t creeping up their neck as they continued to circle the base of the massive Tree together. Crawly was very glad they were holding hands a little while later when they stepped into nothing and would have fallen quite a ways if not for Aziraphale’s firm grip.

Aziraphale dropped the sword again to use both hands to help Crawly up from the hole. “Are you all right?” Aziraphale worried, magicking the dirt from Crawly’s garb and quickly healing their bumps and bruises with a wash of pale golden light. “Oh, didn’t know I could do that. That’s useful.”

“I am now,” said Crawly, smiling at Aziraphale. “You’ve saved me twice now, angel. That’s a mighty big debt I owe you.”

Aziraphale was definitely blushing as they waved the black-winged angel’s words away. “I’m not keeping track. You’d do the same for me if our positions were reversed. Besides, you got the sword down for me, climbing the Tree like that, very dangerous.”

“Right.” Crawly slid their hand back into Aziraphale’s. “Should we see what I led us into, hmm?” They moved cautiously closer the to dark space, hidden among a tangle of roots on the northern face of the Tree. The light was by now almost gone, and although a full moon was just peeking above the horizon, it would be hours yet before it would illuminate the Garden. Aziraphale snapped their fingers, and bright light flooded the area, showing that it was a large opening in the soil, and a seemingly old one by the lushness of the moss and ferns that were growing around it.

Aziraphale and Crawly exchanged a look, laughing a little when they both hesitated. “It’s not like there’s anything in the Garden but us,” chuckled Aziraphale. “Not sure why I’m nervous about it.”

“It’s probably the Tree, I mean, are we allowed to muck about with it?”

“This isn’t ‘mucking about’, it’s not as though we’re going to damage the Tree.” Aziraphale squared their shoulders and moved closer to the opening, finding that there were natural steps in the stone, which showed no sign of moss or of wear. “Oh, well, that’s unexpected.”

Still hand in hand they went down into the stone tunnel, Aziraphale’s light following them. The tunnel curved gently around to either side and Aziraphale went east, finding it led into a large open chamber. Clusters of crystals threw patches of color and light around them when the light struck them, lighting up the area with a welcoming glow. “Oh, my, how lovely.” Less lovely were the dusty piles of detritus mouldering into topsoil and the broken bits of shaped wood and what might have been pottery. “What is this place?” They walked deeper into the chamber, a little unsettled, feeling as though-

“It feels familiar,” murmured Crawly. “So much feels familiar but when I try to remember...”

“M-maybe they told us about it before we were incorporated?” Aziraphale shrugged when Crawly gave them a disbelieving look. “Well, what else could it be?”

“I don’t know,” the black-winged angel admitted, still looking around. “There’s a ledge here, look,” said Crawly, pointing to a relatively level jut of stone from the wall to the east of the opening. Aziraphale carefully set the sword bundle on the ledge, sharing a smile with Crawly. “Almost like it was made for it,” said the black-winged angel thoughtfully.

Aziraphale nodded, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. “Yes. The Almighty works in mysterious w- ow.” Something metallic bounced away, stubbed by Aziraphale’s toe.

Crawly bent and picked it up, wiping it off on the hem of their robe. “It’s a circle?”

“It’s a _crown_ ,” breathed Aziraphale, feeling that same _knowing_ that the sword had inspired, and knowing before they even touched it that it was not as it should have been.

Crawly frowned at the unfamiliar word, but somehow knew Aziraphale was right. “Seems an odd place to leave it, doesn’t it? They’re supposed to be super important, right?”

“Yes,” agreed the white-winged angel distractedly, looking at the walls a little more closely. In the northern wall there was a niche and they magicked away the dust before gently setting the crown back into its place. “There’s probably a third item.”

“Yeah,” said Crawly, holding up a weird device. “And there’s another ledge, on the other wall.” They hunted around until they found all the pieces of the balance, another thing Aziraphale _knew_ , and set it back in its place on the western wall. “What is this place?”

Aziraphale shook their head and shrugged. “Something forgotten. I, uh, let’s go back out?” Crawly readily agreed and they went around the other side of the tunnel, proving it was a circle before they climbed back up the steps and out onto the moss. The white-winged angel tried to ignore the sense of disquiet the chamber gave them. “Really this would be an ideal place to leave the sword.”

“And we’ll just wander around until we fall in any time we need is, will we?” Crawly was beginning to feel active dislike for the chamber, not that they could explain why. Just a sense that something very bad had happened there.

“Alright well, there is a minor flaw to my plan,” Aziraphale admitted, looking around and smiling in triumph when they had an idea. “So we know it’s on the north, easy enough and-”

“Wait, no, easy enough why? I don’t even know what that is!”

“Oh. It’s one of the cardinal directions?” When Crawly shook their head Aziraphale frowned. “Where have you been? They were named ages ago. I think.”

Crawly shrugged but looked skyward at the first few stars beginning to dot the darkening sky. “I uh, I was out there for a while, on my own, when I wasn’t supposed to be,” they admitted lowly, giving Aziraphale a lopsided smile when they slid their hand into Crawly’s. “It’s not really clear but I was in big trouble, and, and they… I don’t remember exactly, but it was bad whatever it was but one of the others stepped in. Lucifer? Got them to leave me alone.”

Aziraphale nodded, recognizing the name. “Oh, right, I’ve heard of them. Very popular.”

Crawly shrugged again. “‘Snot like we’re not friends. ‘Snot like they listen to me.”

There was a drawn out silence before Aziraphale offered with a shy smile, “Well, I’m always here if you want someone to listen. Okay?”

Crawly looked away but nodded. “Yeah. Uh, so north is?”

Aziraphale spent a few moments explaining the directions and how to figure out which was which. “Does that make sense?”

Crawly was nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s useful.”

“So we know the opening faces north, so what if we make an illusion of a big rock over it?”

“What if someone walks on it though?” Crawly cringed after blurting the words out, expecting Aziraphale to be mad, but the white-winged angel was staring at the opening.

“I think I can make it solid. So that it only opens when we want it to?”

Crawly’s eyebrows winged upwards. “Really? That’s impressive.”

“Let’s see...” Aziraphale gathered up a handful of pebbles and began to murmur and gesture over them, carefully walking around the jagged opening and wedging a pebble in among the roots every few steps. “Now the hard part.” Standing in front of the opening, they gathered up more magic, spoke a few strange syllables and made a grand gesture. Power crashed, silently, suddenly, and there was a boulder where the opening had been, covered in moss and vines and looking as though it had been there as long as the Tree had been there. Aziraphale sagged and staggered, smiling gratefully when Crawly braced their shoulder, staring in amazement at the illusion.

“You really outdid yourself, angel,” Crawly said, grinning at Aziraphale. “How’s it work?”

“You touch the rock and say ‘Open in the name of heaven’,” Aziraphale explained, wringing their hands. “I mean, I’ve never done this before, I’m not even sure how I know this so...”

Crawly patted their shoulder. “Let’s test it out. Here? Ooh, I can feel the moss! Okay, uh, open in the name of heaven!” From one moment to another the rock changed, revealing an archway over the stairs. “Well done! Close in the name of heaven?” Crawly grinned when the archway vanished. “Can you teach me that stuff? That could really be useful. I could teach you the shape shifting thing.”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up at the idea. “Oh, really? Well, I don’t see why not. But, oh, uh, the night, shouldn’t you...”

“I can learn and guard at the same time,” Crawly grinned. “I mean, unless you need to rest-”

“No, no, I’m not tired at all,” Aziraphale quickly said, taken in by that grin. “We could, well we can walk around while we talk?”

“Sure, sure,” agreed Crawly. “Maybe without the light? I like seeing the stars.”

A quick snap and the light vanished and Aziraphale blinked and blinked again. “Oh, oh dear, it’s gotten rather dark, hasn’t it?” Aziraphale could barely see and was very reluctant to move from their spot, knowing there were roots and rocks waiting to trip them up.

“I’ll keep you safe, angel,” Crawly promised, taking their hand, their eyes having already adjusted to the darkness. “And the moon will light everything up soon. No idea how I know that.”

Aziraphale gave them a smile and followed them away from the Tree. “Why, um, why do you call me that?” they hazarded to ask.

“Hmm?”

“Angel? I mean, you’re an angel too.”

“Oh, well, yeah, but I mean, you’re better at it,” Crawly admitted, wondering why it seemed so easy to call them that. “Kind, patient, _nice_. It suits you. I can stop if you’d rather.”

“No no, I was just wondering. It’s rather sweet, that you think that of me.”

Crawly gave them a shy look. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me sweet.”

“Well, they mustn’t know you then. You’ve been very sweet and kind to me, if occasionally facetious and flippant, but I don’t mind! The others…” Aziraphale found themself glancing worriedly skyward before murmuring, “They don’t have much sense of humor, do they?”

“Right?!” agreed Crawly with a relieved sigh. “I mean, sometimes things are _odd_ so why not comment on it? But even if they agree they get mad that I pointed it out!”

“I’ve found it best to just not comment,” admitted Aziraphale. “I couldn’t stand their stares.”

“They do know how to stare,” Crawly agreed with a shudder. “Why so many eyes? It’s not like they use them to actually see, being non-corporeal.”

“I think it’s one of those, er, metaphor things, or is it allegory? No, metaphor. Like our wings signify our celestial natures since we don’t actually need them to fly in either form. It’s supposed to represent their knowing-ness I think? Of ‘seeing all’.”

“But they don’t,” smirked Crawly, “or I’d be in a lot more trouble a lot more often.”

Aziraphale smothered a laugh. “Oh, dear, do try to not get into trouble too often.”

“Eh, it’s not like they like me anyway. But I’ll try. Ssso, about that stuff you did...”


	2. Learning Curve

It didn’t take long for the pair of guardians to feel like they had known one another forever. There was a sense of camaraderie between them that was only dampened by their inability to remember how or when or even why they knew one another. Their hearts told them they had been the best of friends, but they also knew that they couldn’t really progress from strangers into best friends without reacquainting themselves with one another, and with themselves. There were a lot of memories missing.

“So what’d you say this one was again?” Crawly asked, pointing up at one of the regular trees, if it could really be called that. It, like every other fruiting plant in the Garden, had open flowers and ripe fruit at the same time, which they were both quite sure wasn’t at all how it was supposed to work.

“Ah, that’s an apple tree. Lots of different varieties of those, although the Almighty seems to have only chosen the reddish ones for some reason. This is one of the sweeter types. Wish I could remember how I know that,” said Aziraphale, reaching up and plucking one of the ripe fruit. They offered it to Crawly, watching with interest as a nearby bud swelled into a flower and one of the open flowers closed and began to grow into a ripe apple. “I love the scent of apples. It reminds me of autumn and warm fires and good things.”

“Autumn, yeah, I think I remember that.” Crawly cautiously sniffed the apple. “Oh, I like that. And you said it tastes sweet?” They sniffed it again and cautiously poked it with their tongue, eyes full of laughter. “Eh?”

Aziraphale chuckled and shook their head. “This one, you bite through the skin, and then you chew. Here, like this.” They picked another apple and out of unfamiliar habit buffed it against the sleeve of their robe before taking a bite. “Oh that is scrummy. Good choice on the Almighty’s part. Watch the center, it has seeds, not fun to bite down on.”

Crawly tried it, nodding in approval. “That is good. I think I remember now, apple, yeah, the seeds are poisonous. But you’d need to eat a lot of them.”

Aziraphale gave them a startled look. “How in the- well, of course you don’t remember why you would know that. I don’t know why I know that either.”

Crawly shrugged and finished off the apple, picking out one of the seeds from the core. “They don’t breed true either. Well, normal ones don’t. Each seed is a gamble on what you’ll get.”

“That’s fascinating.” Aziraphale was still eating their apple, savoring every bite. “Must be frustrating to the person trying to grow good apples though.”

“I wonder if we could plant these, see what would grow from them.” Crawly was surprised when Aziraphale shook their head, a sudden look of worry on their face. “Why wouldn’t we? I mean, it’s a garden, right?” Crawly made a face when Aziraphale looked skyward. “Eh, but it’s a _garden_. They’re meant for growing things. What’s the point if new things can’t be planted?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale admitted once they’d finished chewing, again looking upwards with trepidation. “We can try, I suppose. Um, here’s a spot.” They gestured to a nearby area that was just open grassy ground amid the neat rows of apple trees, almost as though there had been a tree there at some point in the past.

Crawly crouched down and made a little hole in the dirt and dropped the seed in, covering it and patting it down, standing up and smiling at Aziraphale. “We should mark the spot.”

“...I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Aziraphale, taking their hand and tugging them away from the spot, both of them watching in amazement as the seed sprouted and unfurled to maturity. But no buds formed, and certainly no fruit. “Oh. I was rather hopeful for a moment.”

“Yeah, that’s disappointing,” said Crawly. “So we can plant things, but nothing comes of it.” They looked down at the cores and up at each other as a thought occurred to both of them and in unison they found another open area and made a bigger hole, dropping the cores in, hastily covering them and backing away. But nothing happened. Slowly the little pile of dirt settled back into place and the grass grew back over it as though nothing had ever disturbed it. “Well that’s interesting.”

“So things we don’t plant for the purpose of growing just get… reabsorbed,” surmised Aziraphale, looking back at the lush but fruitless tree Crawly had planted. “I suppose it makes sense,” said the white-winged angel sadly.

“Huh? No, that doesn’t make any sense,” Crawly protested. “It’s a garden!”

“But it’s not _our_ Garden,” they explained. “It’s not our place to plant things. We’re just guards.” They tried to put a smile on. “Part of the Ineffable Plan I imagine. Best not think about it.”

Crawly frowned and took Aziraphale’s hand. “We could plant things outside the wall. I bet they’d grow there. I mean, we know they do, we can see stuff growing. And there’s animals out there. It’s weird there’s no animals in here, isn’t it? Not even insects. Maybe we should let some in?”

“No no, I don’t want to risk getting you in trouble,” said Aziraphale even though they agreed with Crawly’s assessment of the odd lack of other living beings inside the Garden. “It’s not as though we really need more plants,” they said, gesturing to take in everything around them, giving Crawly’s hand a grateful squeeze. “We should keep patrolling. And you were going to teach me about shape shifting today.”

“That’s right,” said Crawly, familiar enough with Aziraphale to know when the white-winged angel was trying to change the subject, and they let the matter drop, seeing how upset it was making their friend. “It’s hungry work. Let’s take some apples with us. They’re a lot less sticky than some of the other fruit. And no rind.”

“I am quite fond of them,” Aziraphale agreed. “I would go so far as to say they are as close to perfect as an earthly thing can be,” the white-winged angel pronounced, plucking an apple each from three of the surrounding trees, only to frown down at their robe when they realized they had no useful way of carrying them. “I should’ve thought this through better.”

Crawly chuckled and with a touch of magic twisted one of the folds of fabric of their own robe into a pouch, taking the apples Aziraphale had picked. “Perfect, huh? Can’t just make a blanket statement like that, angel,” the black-winged angel teased as Aziraphale modified their own robe and picked more apples. “There’s a lot of fruit to compare it to. Where would we even start?”

Aziraphale dusted off their hands before offering one to Crawly so they could continue walking. “I dare say there’s _similar_ fruit, and many might be more flavorful, but for ease of eating, I doubt much can compare.” They gave Crawly a shy sidelong look. “But I’d be willing to try some others, if you are. There are unfortunately quite a few that I’m not currently familiar with.”

“I imagine between us we’ll be able to sort most of ‘em out,” said Crawly, taking a bite of another of the apples. “So, shape shifting, kinda hard to explain but you need to be somewhat familiar with the animal you want to look like. What animals do you know, like pretty well? Not snakes, obviously,” they teased.

“Obviously,” Aziraphale frowned with amusement. “Hmm. I’ll need to think on that.”

They walked on in companionable silence for a little while before Crawly stopped to be rid of the apple core, digging down into another grassy spot in the dirt only to gasp in pain and yank their hand away, staring in shock at the blood dripping from their fingers. “Something bloody cut me!”

“I think the blood comes after the cutting part,” said Aziraphale, quickly taking their hand and healing them.

“Yesss, I do know that,” Crawly said, giving them a smirk and making a sharp gesture to part the soil to reveal whatever it was that had cut them. “A rock?” They cautiously pulled out the oddly shiny piece of dark stone and dropped the apple core in its place, closing the soil with another wave. “Ooh, wait, this is obsidian. Comes from, wossname, volcanoes.”

“Volcanoes?” Aziraphale looked around the Garden and shook their head. “Must have been a very, very long time ago, for there to have been one here.” They cringed at what they’d said, darting a glance upwards. “If there were a long time ago to be had, ha ha. Probably just another little joke on the Almighty’s part.” When nothing happened they let out a sigh, shrugging at the confused look Crawly was giving them. “May I?” They held out their hand and Crawly very carefully passed it over the unshaped chunk of obsidian that wasn’t much bigger than the palm of their hand. “Oh… this isn’t earthly obsidian. This is _primordial_ obsidian.”

“What’s the difference?” Crawly asked. They looked at the ground but there weren’t any other obvious pieces of it laying around. “Is it magical? Didn’t seem magical. There’s so much about magic I don’t know,” they complained.

“Give yourself time to learn, Crawly, it’s only been a handful of days since I started teaching you,” Aziraphale consoled. “When you touch it, it will feel slightly warm to the touch and will never change temperature, that’s one way you can tell the difference. But it’s not exactly magical, more like proto-magical, created from the very firmament of the earthly plane interacting with a non-corporeal plane.” Their excitement about the discovery was clear as they continued to explain to Crawly. “It can also be created when two incompatible types of magic meet, expending a lot of energy as they find equilibrium. It is a very powerful spell component, as it can store magic almost indefinitely, and can be used as a spell anchor, like what I did with those pebbles. It wouldn’t have taken near as much power to create the rock facade if I’d had this to work with because this actually amplifies the magic it’s imbued with. I wonder if we can find more,” Aziraphale said, offering the piece back to Crawly and frowning when they shook their head.

“You can have it. You should keep it.” Crawly knew that sharing a small special item (an idea, a memory, a melody) with Aziraphale was a way of affirming their friendship. Celestial relationships were complicated enough without adding corporeality to the mix, but Crawly was pretty sure the gift of a physical item would have the same connotation. “The way you were going on, I, er, I assume you’d like it?”

“What? Crawly, I...” No matter how nice Crawly had been, this was a thousand steps beyond niceness, especially after Aziraphale’s terrible faux pas of flirting on their first day together. It seemed the black-winged angel didn’t know or had forgotten the implications of what Aziraphale had done while under the heady new influence of corporeality and gravity. On top of that, they could not believe that anyone would really want that sort of tie with them, not with what they could recall of their time in Heaven. Besides- “Oh, goodness, it’s gotten your blood on it. I can’t keep it after that!”

Crawly reluctantly look back the obsidian, frowning down at it, trying to hide how hurt they were by the white-winged angel’s flippant tone. “Oh. Right.”

Aziraphale realized then that Crawly didn’t understand why they were rejecting the gift. “That would be far too powerful of a relic for me to possess without protections, even if, er, you, uh, meant, er, wanted,” they stammered, quite sure that the black-winged angel wasn’t offering it in that manner and really not wanting to make their friend feel awkward by even bringing it up.

Crawly looked back up at them in surprise. “What do you mean, powerful? Like, magically?”

A much safer topic. Aziraphale let out a relieved breath. “Yes. There’s a lot of magic that can be powered from blood, especially our blood because these bodies aren’t born but created; not of this world, merely in it. Thankfully the power fades from it very quickly, or being corporeal would be quite dangerous for us. But, for your blood to have been spilled on _primordial obsidian,_ that means the power won’t fade, not for thousands of years, if ever. That would allow whoever possessed it to call upon the power inferred to the stone.”

“Oh.” Crawly was relieved that it wasn’t disgust, wasn’t a rejection because their blood was somehow bad. “But, I do trust you, you know, if you want it. If it’d be useful for you,” Crawly said, holding it out again, holding their breath as they watched the emotions play over Aziraphale’s face.

“Crawly, I-” Aziraphale tenderly rested their hand over the black-winged angel’s, in their heart wishing they could accept, wishing Crawly really meant what they were insinuating by accident. “That is an extremely sweet and generous offer but I, if something happened and it got into the wrong hands, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. If they were very clever they could possibly use what’s stored in the stone to affect you directly. There are a number of ways to nullify the risks but the simplest would be for you to create a nexus so no one can use it without your permission. It’s safest yet for it to remain with you.”

Crawly looked down at their hands and back up into Aziraphale’s green eyes and the odd tender sadness they could read there. “Alright. But we could make it so you could use it too, in an emergency, couldn’t we? If we were both to, er, nexus with it?”

Aziraphale stared at Crawly, unsure how to respond. They hadn’t expected the black-winged angel to keep offering it to them, even knowing that it could be dangerous. _They can’t mean it that way!_

Crawly looked away when the silence dragged on. “I don’t mean to upset you,” Crawly said. “I don’t even know what a nexus is.”

“Oh, it’s, uh, it’s imbuing a physical item with your auras so that it becomes attuned to you, making it almost impossible for someone else to use it, at least magically, without your permission. For the both of us to do that would mean that you, that we...” Aziraphale’s words trailed away into nothingness, flustered. _Do, do they really mean it?_ “That we trust one another implicitly. That we are good friends.”

“I don’t get it. What wrong with that?” Crawly said, wishing they could crawl into the hole with the apple core and pretend the last few moments had never happened but needing to understand why. Why Aziraphale was rejecting them after what Crawly had been sure was an overture of some sort. _Maybe now that we’ve spent time together, they’ve thought better of... it was probably just the gravity getting to them that first day. Maybe they’re just being_ nice _to me but don’t really mean anything by it, like Lucifer. Maybe Gabriel and them were right about me not really being one of them..._

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with it… But you did say you were away for a long time and I don’t know-”

“Look, if you don’t want to be friends you should’ve just said,” Crawly growled, face red with embarrassment. They scowled when Aziraphale stepped around to stop them from walking away, ready to tell them off, but the unhappy words died on their lips when they saw Aziraphale’s pale drawn expression. “Ngk?”

“I need to know you truly understand what it is you’re offering me,” Aziraphale said hoarsely, feeling confused and upset. They hated the hurt look on Crawly’s face, the pain they could hear in their voice, how the light dimmed in their eyes when they were unhappy, but these weren’t topics that were usually openly discussed and it was hard to articulate what usually went unspoken. They twisted their hands together, stammering over the words but needing to get them out. “I expect you don’t remember, being on your own like you were but it’s, it’s quite significant, what you’re asking, what it would mean. What you’re offering to me...”

The desperate worried hope in Aziraphale’s voice and posture had the black-winged angel sighing with relief. “Aziraphale, I know we hardly know one another, and you’ve no reason to think I might feel this way,” Crawly tried to reassure them. “But I _know_ you, and like you, and trust you. We _are_ friends. That’s why I offered it as a token of our friendship and trust in one another. I know you, Aziraphale. I know you’re my friend. I’m trying to show you I’m your friend too. Okay?”

“Do, do you really mean that, Crawly?” Aziraphale asked, voice thick with emotion.

“Yeah,” the black-winged angel said, reaching out to touch Aziraphale’s shoulder, their fingers curling against the cloth of Aziraphale’s robe as the white-winged angel stepped closer. “Figured you knew, when you let me, you know, when, the feathers,” Crawly finished in a rush. “Never had anyone trust me like that.”

“Ohh.” Aziraphale blinked away the tears that sprang into their eyes. “Yes, yes I do trust you.” When Crawly’s hand slid over their shoulder and gently urged them closer Aziraphale wrapped them in a hug. “My friend. My dear, dear friend, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you could mean it that way,” they confessed. “I, it’s been such a short time and I was so sure I was misunderstanding or that you didn’t understand what it meant, having been on your own for so long. I didn’t want to ruin things by assuming…”

“I understood. I meant it, mean it,” Crawly soothed. They held one another for a long moment, sighing in relief at the easing of a tension they hadn’t realized was there. When they finally pulled away Crawly smiled happily at them. “Besides… ‘Sonly fair. You’ve got your sword, and I’ve got, my uh, my _obsidian blade_.” They smirked, holding it up. When the sun hit it just right the gleam of colors were revealed from within the darkness. “Impressive, right?”

Aziraphale chuckled at Crawly’s playfulness, feeling light with relief and happiness. “It’s pretty. And sharp, I’ll give you that.”

The black-winged angel grinned. “So, show me, what do we need to do?”

Aziraphale talked them through creating the nexus. “Well, it’s rather simple really, just extend your auras into the stone. You’ll know when it’s enough. It’s very useful to nexus things because you can sense where they and call them to you no matter where you are.”

“Can you do that with the sword?”

“No. And I don’t want to either,” Aziraphale said shortly. “It belongs to Heaven, not me.”

Crawly frowned but just nodded and did as told, focusing on the stone. The more of their auras they moved into it, the more Crawly could sense about it; every facet and plane became part of them, becoming their whole world for a moment before fading away into normal background noise. “Alright. Now what?”

Aziraphale sighed, not wanting to ask but having to. “Are you really sure, Crawly? The, uh, the others might not approve of you being friends with me. Sharing things with me.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Not that it’s any of their business anyway. No one has to know if you’re worried about it.” Crawly’s confidence wavered with the sudden understanding that part of Aziraphale’s reluctance was tied to the fear of their friendship being discovered, not because they were ashamed of it, but because they expected their friendship to be used against one or both of them. “But ‘sokay, if you really don’t want to, if this is dangerous for you. I didn’t even think of that. I don’t want to put you in a bad spot-”

“Goodness, no, Crawly, I’m not worried about _me_. And once it’s a nexus it can’t be used against the one it’s bound to. It’s just.” Aziraphale took a deep breath and offered their hand to Crawly, who took it. “You’ve been so generous and sweet to me and I haven’t done anything to earn it.”

“We’re in this together, Aziraphale,” Crawly murmured, shifting closer so that their shoulders bumped. “You don’t have to earn anything from me. It’s already yours.” Crawly met Aziraphale’s eyes, enthralled to see they had shifted from green into blue, and offered them the obsidian. “Will you share this with me, angel?”

Aziraphale gave them a tender smile and accepted it. “I would be honored, my dear.” They nicked the skin on their fingers in keeping with how the blade had marked Crawly, healing themself and creating the nexus. When it was done they cleared their throat and gave the obsidian back to the black-winged angel for safe keeping. “This means so very much to me, Crawly, I don’t know that words are enough to express it.”

The black-winged angel looked up from where they had magicked up another pocket in their robe for the obsidian and suggested hopefully, “Maybe another hug?”

“Oh, yes please.” Aziraphale sniffled when Crawly wrapped their arms around them and rested their cheeks together. “I don’t understand why this is affecting me so much,” the white-winged angel whispered.

“Me neither,” Crawly agreed with a sigh. “Maybe it’s relief, that we’ve found one another again.”

Tears sprang afresh to Aziraphale’s eyes. “Yes, I think that must be it. I didn’t know how much I missed you until I met you. Now I don’t have to miss you anymore.”

The black-winged angel pressed their face into Aziraphale’s shoulder to hide their own tears. “I think I must’ve missed you terribly,” they confessed. “’Cause us, being together, it feels right.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale opened their eyes and beamed at Crawly. “Yes, that’s how I feel too.”

Crawly grinned and took Aziraphale’s hand, giving it a gentle tug to get them walking again. “Did you think of an animal to try?”

“I did. It’s quite lovely, but I can’t remember the name of it.”

“Oh, yeah? Try describing it?”

“Feathers, covered in golden-brown feathers, mostly, and has a, not lips, hard thing.” Aziraphale held their hand up to their face, curving it into the shape they meant. “Flies. Just floats on the air on great wide wings. Eats, er, mostly other creatures, turtles, hares, the like. Great big claws on its feet.”

“Hmm, a hunting bird of some sort.” Crawly considered the description for a moment. “That’s a beak, by the way, the pointy face thing. Could be an owl you’re thinking of, though I don’t think owls eat turtles. Eagle! I think you mean an eagle.” They looked at shy, retiring, nervous Aziraphale, and had to wonder that they would think fondly of an eagle. Inwardly the black-winged angel found themself wondering at what their friend had been before they’d been sent to the Garden. “Sounds like you know it pretty well?”

“I, I suppose I do,” Aziraphale realized. “There are others but it seems like flying would be...”

“Yeah,” Crawly agreed. “So let’s find a good open place to sit and then you can try it.” They found an open field beyond the apple orchards, one of many, that had clearly been used for growing crops but had been left fallow for some ineffable reason. The empty plots were filled instead with the odd low grass they’d noticed in the orchard that didn’t seem to serve any purpose besides covering up the dirt. “Is this weird? This seems really weird. Why have a field in a garden but then cover it with… that?”

“Lawn.” Aziraphale just stared out at the large vacant swathe of homogeneous grass and felt a pang of sadness that they didn’t know how to explain. “Best not to speculate,” they said, doing their best to ignore the odd disquiet that the barren field was giving them. “So, what do I do?”

“Right, here, sit down and close your eyes,” said Crawly, dragging their eyes away from the emptiness and back to Aziraphale, who had done as told. They sat down with them and tried to explain the process. “When I did the snake thing it was like I was pulling myself in, and imagining really hard how it would feel to _be_ the snake. No arms, no legs, the whole thing. So, for a bird it’s wings instead of hands, and a tail, feathers all over. Really good vision I bet, uh...” Crawly watched with fascination as Aziraphale wavered, hovering at the edge of shifting for a long breathless moment before finally getting the hang of it and taking the form of a large golden eagle. “Oh! That’s good!”

Aziraphale cautiously got their feet and extended their wings, canting their head this way and that. “Yes, my, this is interesting,” they said, putting out a leg and flexing their talons. “You know, for some reason I feel like I should have more legs? How odd.” They did a few practice flaps then jumped up, and awkwardly flapped back down. After a few more failed attempts Aziraphale said, “I think perhaps I need you to show me. If you don’t mind? I seem to be missing something vital.”

“Oh, er, uh, sure.” Crawly sat back down and considered for a moment before shifting into that of a large black bird with glossy iridescent feathers. They hopped about to get used to their new form, canting their head around and flexing their wings and legs before stalking over to Aziraphale who was watching them curiously. “Not sure I’m going to be much better than you at this,” they admitted.

“I do appreciate you being willing to try though.” Aziraphale watched closely as Crawly crouched down and jumped, unfurling their wings and flapping hurriedly skyward, and the sight triggered something in their bird-shaped brain that said, _chase!_ so they did without even thinking about it, hurling themself skyward after Crawly. They were quite high and gaining on their friend when they came back to themself. “Oh, oh dear!”

“Just hold your wings out, angel, the wind will hold you up!” Crawly called, almost tumbling themself when they saw Aziraphale falter. “There you go!”

“I did it! Oh how lovely,” said Aziraphale as they glided downward. “Ooh, how do I land?”

“Lean back and flap, put out your feet- are you alright?” Crawly asked, bouncing to a halt beside Aziraphale, who was sprawled in the grass on their back in human form, panting for breath. They shifted back as well and bent over their friend worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride, I think.” Aziraphale beamed up at them. “That was very exciting though! And tiring, you were quite right about that.” They let out a little groan as they let Crawly help them up into a sitting position. “I think I have severly underestimated how long it would take to master this. You make it seem so easy, Crawly, I really had no idea it was that complicated.”

“Eh, I mean, we’ve all got our things, that we’re good at. Can’t all be the same,” they shrugged, flustered by the compliment. “Takes time, like you said, learning new things.” They helped Aziraphale up, dusting them off with a bit of magic. “We’ll try again tomorrow, after you’ve rested.”

“I could really use some water.” Aziraphale made a face at the dryness of their mouth, leading Crawly towards the sound of running water. The spring that watered the Garden was split into multiple irrigation channels to keep all the plants watered, but there was also a river that ended in a lake. “And now I’m all sweaty too. I’m rather amazed how easy you make it look,” they said, smiling proudly at Crawly.

Crawly blushed but shrugged, giving Aziraphale’s hand a squeeze. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask, how is it you know so much about how these forms work? I thought you were incorporated the same day I was?”

“Yes, I was, the morning before you arrived. I… I don’t actually know how I know,” Aziraphale admitted. “Sometimes I just find myself doing things without realizing I’m doing them. Rather disconcerting to be honest. Like being hungry and finding something to eat.” They shrugged at Crawly’s sidelong smirk. “I know we don’t need to eat, or drink, or breathe, or bathe, but it makes me uncomfortable to not do so.”

“Yeah, takes less energy to eat and breathe than not,” Crawly agreed, putting word to action and pulling out another apple and quickly devouring it. “Actually gain energy. And it’s enjoyable. ‘Snot bad, really, being corporeal, once you get used to it. Aside from the whole lack of any kind of guidance on how they’re supposed to work or how to keep them from breaking. And the gravity.”

“Yes. Guidance really would have been nice,” Aziraphale agreed, letting out a pleased sigh as they kilted up their robes and stepped into the shallows of the lake. “Warning that it can get overheated would have been useful. And important, you’d think.” They moved into a slightly deeper spot, lifting their wings away from the water and taking a drink, splashing water over their hot face and head. “That’s better.”

“Or cold,” Crawly said with a shiver of memory, joining Aziraphale in the water, which was, of course, the perfect temperature. “I do not like being cold. Or too -oh!” It wasn’t even a conscious action, to jump in after Aziraphale when the ground shifted beneath their feet and the white-winged angel went under with a gurgle of surprise. The water went dark with disturbed silt but the flash of a white wing led Crawly downward into the darkness, away from the shallows and the shore. They found Aziraphale by instinct and by feel and hooked their friend under their arm and dragged them back up to the light, splaying out their dark wings for buoyancy as they kept Aziraphale’s head above the silty water as they coughed and gasped.

“Hold on, angel,” Crawly said, focusing on the surprisingly distant shore and using their power to move themself and Aziraphale there. It wasn’t a miracle or magic that they did, instead using their inherent power as a being outside of time and space to momentarily wrinkle the very fabric of space-time to allow them to be _there_ instead of _here_ in a way that the laws of physics would heavily frown upon, if it could frown. Someone, somewhere, was surely frowning over it anyway.

The black-winged angel worriedly held onto Aziraphale as they laid on the edge of muddy shallows, coughing up water and trembling, and it took a while before Aziraphale could catch their breath. “Not how I wanted to remember that drowning is a thing that can happen,” croaked Aziraphale, expending some of their power to soothe away the ache in their throat and chest from where they’d accidentally inhaled water, silt, and possibly a plant or two. “Not that I wanted to recall it at all, really. Thank you for the quick rescue, it quite caught me by surprise and I couldn’t see, couldn’t think.” They shook their head and rested their head on Crawly’s shoulder, exhaling a slow relieved breath. “Terrifying.”

“Scared me too, angel. What happened?” the black-winged angel said, stroking their hand soothingly over Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“It collapsed! It felt like normal sand but suddenly it wasn’t there and, well, down I went.” Aziraphale scowled down at their drenched and mud streaked robe and wings. “I’m going to need a real bath after that. You too.” They reared back to look at the lake and then at Crawly, realizing they hadn’t swam or walked to shore. “Seems like you know a few things about these bodies too. How did you do that?”

“I, yeah, I guess so.” Crawly shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just knew I needed to get you back to dry land.”

“That will require some exploration. When we’re recovered,” said Aziraphale.

Crawly nodded and looked back at the lake, which had settled back into clearness while they’d been recovering. “Eh, if you’re okay, and since I’m already a mess maybe I should go investigate? Seems weird, it collapsing that way. What if there’s something under there?”

“It is rather odd. But I most certainly can’t let you go alone. What if there’s another collapse? You could get trapped down there.” Aziraphale looked at Crawly and then back at the water, before reluctantly nodding in agreement. “But I absolutely refuse to drag my wings through the mud again.” And while Crawly rolled their eyes and began to protest, they spent a moment to concentrate, drawing themself inward so that their wings became non-corporeal, vanishing into the ether, the water and mud formerly saturating the white feathers splashing them both.

Crawly gasped in shock, waving a hand where the shimmering white wings had been, running their hand over Aziraphale’s back, at a complete loss for words to feel no sign of their wings at all. “What- how?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile a little at their friend’s consternation. “No, I had no knowledge that we could do that. But it was easy enough to extrapolate that if we can withdraw our auras until they are undetectable then we should, as I’ve demonstrated, be able to hide all manifestations of our natures while inside these forms. And it certainly makes it simpler to deal with deep water.”

Crawly frowned at Aziraphale, and at their own muddy wet wings. “I, I guess.”

Aziraphale took their hand. “Do you want to try? Or you can join me as you are. Or you could wait on the shore while I look, I don’t mind. Whatever you prefer.”

Crawly closed their eyes to help themself concentrate and did as Aziraphale had. They could still vaguely sense their wings, but as a much more distant, peripheral feeling than when their wings were corporeal. “That’s... I’m not sure I like that,” Crawly admitted, rolling their shoulders at how bare their back felt, without the brush of feathers. It was weird, how quickly they’d gotten used to the feel of being in a body.

“Once we’re out of the water, we’ll be back to our usual selves,” Aziraphale reassured them. “Ready? Suppose it might be best if we not breathe for a while.”

“Huh, yeah,” Crawly agreed. Hand in hand they waded back into the water and with a nod slipped beneath the surface, letting themselves sink down to the bottom. The bright sunlight pierced down, illuminating the small plants growing in the silt, and the odd collapsed area that proved to be the roof of a large sandstone cave that went under the western shoreline.

Only it wasn’t so much a cave as an overhang clearly carved from the stone itself, weakened because of the missing pair of support pillars that had been destroyed before the area had been flooded to create the lake. The shattered pillars had been carved, but it was almost impossible to tell what they had been shaped into, all details eroded away except that one pillar had been a different type of stone from the other, one black, the other red. The inside of the cave was filled with broken pottery and what might have been wooden shelves, all of it mostly submerged within a deep layer of silt. And though it was as ruinous as the room beneath the Tree, it didn’t evoke the same sense of disquiet, instead just filling them both with a distant sense of loss. They found more primordial obsidian which they took with them when they retreated back to the surface.

They were both lost in their thoughts as they gave each other privacy to clean themselves up at a stretch of beach. Aziraphale found Crawly awaiting them on the sand, fighting to untangle a twig from their hair. “Oh, might I help?”

“Ugh, yes, please,” said Crawly, bowing their head as Aziraphale knelt beside them. “Angel,” they murmured, sighing a little as their friend began freeing their hair from around the twig, “you know what that was, don’t you?”

“I don’t think we should talk about it,” Aziraphale whispered, darting a worried look skyward. “Might be best if we just forget about it. Clearly it was… abandoned,” they said, oh so gently untangling Crawly’s long curls. “After whatever disaster destroyed the pillars.”

“It was lightning,” Crawly whispered back. “Fused some of the sand into a kind of glass.” They let the matter drop when they saw Aziraphale’s worried expression, saying instead, “Thanks for this. Not sure long hair is worth it, with how tangly it gets.”

“Oh, if you must, you must. It’s quite lovely on you though,” sighed Aziraphale, gently running their fingers over Crawly’s hair once the twig was free. “Ah, a comb! That will help.”

“Gah, why didn’t I think of that?” Crawly smirked, accepting the wooden comb Aziraphale miracled up. “That’ll help. Thanks angel.”

“You’re very welcome Crawly.” They watched the black-winged angel comb their hair for a moment, slipping a look towards Crawly’s wings, ruffled from their impromptu dive beneath the water before murmuring, “Of course, I, er, I do owe you, now, since you pulled me from the water. I mean, if you’d li-oof!” They let out a laugh at having a sudden face full of wing, sighing a little at the silken feel of the dark feathers. “I take it this is a yes?”

“Mmm hmm,” Crawly said, closing their eyes when they discovered that it did feel as lovely as they’d thought it would, only to open them again when something tickled their nose. “Oh, I see how it is,” they teased, sinking their fingers into Aziraphale’s feathers, and getting a beaming smile in return. “Just like that, huh?”

“Well, fair’s fair, my dear,” said Aziraphale, shifting so their shoulder was resting against Crawly’s. “I did heal your hand. I wouldn’t want you to have too deep of a debt.”

“Oh, right, right,” Crawly agreed, grinning at Aziraphale. “I mean, I did keep you from crashing into the ground, _splat_ , when you forgot how wings work.”

“Well, that is true,” Aziraphale said lightly, beginning to pull their wing away, only to stop when Crawly failed to let go. “Oh, wait, no, I taught you about the perfection of apples. That’s a terribly big debt, my dear.”

Crawly laughed, bumping their shoulders together. “The perfection of apples is worth just about anything, angel, I’ll agree with you there. I guess I’d better-” They grinned when Aziraphale kept them from furling their wing away. “No?”

“No.” Aziraphale’s smile went a little wobbly and they had to look away for a moment. “I’d do anything for you, Crawly. I’m so glad to have you as my friend.”

“Aziraphale… I’d do anything for you too.” Crawly looked away from those golden eyes reflecting the sunset, pressing their shoulder tightly against Aziraphale’s. “I, uh, I should probably go on patrol soon. I can walk you back to the Tree, if you need to rest?”

“You know, I think I would rather stay with you, if you don’t mind,” said Aziraphale. “You’re rather restful company, at least, I find you to be.”

“Really?” Crawly’s surprise melted into a pleased smile. “I find you restful too.” They stood and helped Aziraphale up. “Where to first?”

“To get something more to eat,” said Aziraphale, lacing their fingers together with Crawly’s. “I ate all the apples I had while bathing and I’m still rather peckish.”

“Should we try something new?” Crawly asked, taking the lead as the sun slipped behind the wall. “There is an awful lot of competition for your apples to contend with. It’s going to take a while.”

Aziraphale laughed at Crawly’s mock-serious tone. “Oh, indeed, it will be a terrible trial, trying all the variety the Almighty has given us. I really don’t know how we’ll endure it, my dear.”

“Don’t worry angel, you won’t have to endure it alone,” Crawly said, giving their hand a squeeze.

“Oh, yes.” The white-winged angel smiled fondly at them. “I know.”


	3. Tea with honey and lemon

An interesting thing about celestial beings, counted among which are some of those called angels and demons, is because they are beings without mass or measure, they are not subject to the whims of time, though they may dwell inside of it with the help of a corporeal form. A celestial being, once they know something; what a homophone is, when a certain fruit is considered ripe, how a frowning friend's eyes will crinkle with hidden laughter- they will somehow have always known it without knowing they know it. Somewhere in their ineffable consciousness, they will have never not known that swords have a cutting edge, that crowns convey power, that tempting gleam of mischief in bright yellow eyes.

This of course leads to paradoxes, but it also doesn't. You'll understand when you're dead.

The complexity of existing outside of time and gravity is not something a mortal brain can really comprehend, not when all of their energy is devoted to keeping themself alive. The complexity of existing inside of time and gravity is not something an immortal being made of consciousness can comprehend, not when the constant knurd[ 1 ] makes them forget things (mostly the futures they don't like) out of sheer self preservation. Combining the two just compounds these issues.

Memories, once made, at least for those of a celestial nature, can not actually be erased. Twisted or smothered, bound up or undermined, yes, but somewhere, beyond forever, the really important ones will gleam from under the detritus like a lost and stolen crown, shining through the miasma like the moon and stars. Some memories have a cutting edge.

**∞**

The angels spent a timeless night when the moon was dark with Crawly teaching Aziraphale about the births and deaths of stars and the secret movements of the planets, of nebula and pulsar, red giants and brown dwarfs. Of shooting stars that were falling pebbles caught in gravity and shimmering hissing colors that were solar wind dancing with the magnetosphere. Each memory had spurned others and the white-winged angel had sat absorbed for all of it, utterly fascinated.

By morning Crawly's voice was no more than a whisper. Aziraphale was distraught at the black-winged angel's discomfort but Crawly just waved it away, knowing there were far far worse things in the world than a sore throat. "It will pass," they whispered, smiling as Aziraphale dragged them off of the wall towards the Tree.

"It's my fault you're hurting," insisted Aziraphale, clearing off a comfortable looking rock among the Tree's roots and urging Crawly to sit. "So I'm going to fix it."

Crawly didn't try to speak, instead winging up their eyebrows and smirking.

"Magic is a thing, you recall. I owe you, for teaching me all night." It had become a joke between them, an excuse for anything and everything.

A smile but then a dismissive shrug and wave of a hand. _Unnecessary_ , the gesture said.

Aziraphale made a face at them and began their preparations and Crawly pretended to not be interested but watched their every movement with bright curious eyes. Aziraphale found a specific bush and plucked the tenderest leaves, crushing them between their hands and doing something to make them turn brown, dropping them into a clay vessel they had called up from the firmament with a flick of fingers. Two smaller clay cups appeared on the rock next to the pot, the insides already coated with pools of dark honey from one of the wild Eden beehives. Another vessel full of water appeared, and a brief glare had the water bubbling merrily and they poured it into the pot. While it steeped they plucked one of the ripe fruits from the Tree, a bright yellow one almost the color of Crawly's eyes, and began to peel it.

Crawly sat up in surprise at that. "Are-"

"Hush, you'll make yourself worse," scolded Aziraphale, breaking open and dropping one tiny wedge of the tart fruit into each cup before using the hem of their robe to cover the spout as they poured out the aromatic liquid into the cups. Another flick of fingers cleaned and dried their robe and the white-winged angel took a seat beside Crawly on the rock and passed them the cup after cooling it to just the perfect temperature. "Drink up."

The black-winged angel hesitated, inhaling deeply of the enticing smell and once Aziraphale took a sip, so did Crawly. They both closed their eyes and savored a flavor they hadn't known they were missing. Being so infused with magic, Crawly's throat was instantly soothed and they took another sip as they considered if they should finish asking the question they'd started. It wasn't as though it would make a difference now.

"Better?" Aziraphale asked.

"Much, thank you. But, um, are we allowed to eat from the Tree?"

The white-winged angel froze with their cup halfway to their lips. "Well, we must be, or why have fruit at all?" they rationalized. "A few of them have even fallen off," they pointed out, gesturing to the ripe fruit brightly visible against the moss. "If we leave them they'll just rot, bring in vermine."

"Not healthy for a Garden," Crawly agreed, taking another sip of the tea when Aziraphale shot them a look. "It's not like they told us not to. At least, they didn't tell me not to."

"Me neither," Aziraphale agreed, feeling just the tiniest shiver of apprehension. "Probably best to not mention it though."

"Probably." They sat and drank their tea, and when Crawly's cup was empty they asked, "So, you going to teach me how to make it?"

Aziraphale brightened out of their worried thoughts. "I'd love to!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Being [knurd](https://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/Knurd) is to be (un)intoxicated to such an extent that all comfort stories are stripped away from the mind. This makes you see the world in a way 'nobody ever should', in all its harsh reality.  [ ▲ ]


	4. The Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [edited Oct 10, 2019 for continuity]

Another perfect night illuminated by a brilliant full moon found Crawly in giant horned serpent form, coiled in the shadow of the garden wall, heart pounding, tensed and ready to strike. There were gibberings and gnashing teeth and scrabbling against the masonry, until finally one of the monsters found a handhold and crawled up and over, mostly falling into the garden, luckily, or unluckily, landing within striking distance.

The creature howled and barely missed Crawly’s head as they brought a massive clawed fist down, too slow to hit them after they delivered their venom and withdrew back into the illusion Aziraphale had cast to hide them. Even as it raised its arm to strike out it crumbled to ash as the venom took effect.

On the wall another Thing’s triumphant crowing ended with a sizzling squawk, and the scent of burning hair filled the air as Aziraphale, also veiled in moonlight and shadows, caught one by surprise, the fire of the sword swiftly consuming it beyond ash. “Another one coming your way,” they warned, retreating back into their illusion as two more came over the top of the wall.

Crawly darted out of the way when one dropped down and attempted to stomp on them in spite of the illusion, dealing a lighting quick bite to the thing’s leg in the meantime. “Nasssty,” they hissed, gagging at the frigid cold sand the skin of the Thing left on their tongue before it too burned away to nothing.

There was another sizzling sound, and this time the stench of burning feathers wafted down from the wall. After that there was only the sound of the angel panting for breath, and Crawly slithered up the stones to the top. Aziraphale’s white robes and wings smudged with ash and blood and Crawly quickly shifted back into their bipedal form. “You’re hurt!”

“No no, I caught myself on one of the crystals,” Aziraphale admitted, rolling their eyes at themself, holding up their left hand and the rapidly healing cut. “I feel like such an idiot.”

Crawly let out a breath of relief. “Don’t scare me like that, Aziraphale!” The angels had quickly learned that injuries caused by the Things needed to be treated right away or they would fester and refuse to heal, and magic was no use in treating such wounds.

“Sorry, my dear. Any sign of the rift?”

The black-winged angel turned to look outward, scanning the area for signs of where the Things had come from. When that failed to detect anything they sent out their senses in all directions, just in case this time the Things were numerous enough to try attacking on multiple fronts. “Closed already, just one, due west like all the others. Maybe they’re running out of energy, sending only four.”

“I certainly hope so,” said Aziraphale, cleaning off the sword and themself with a snap. “Three nights in a row now. After weeks of quiet. And upstairs is still no use.”

They mimicked their respective bosses in perfect sync, “You’re the Guardian, so Guard!” Crawly led Aziraphale down the steps and back towards the Tree. “At least they’re consistent.”

“Who, the Things or the archangels?” groused Aziraphale, making Crawly laugh. They ducked into the chamber to return the sword to its place and when they reemerged Crawly already had tea and a selection of fruits laid out on the rock that had become their spot. “I do believe I owe you, for scaring you so rudely earlier.”

“Yes, I rather think you do,” said Crawly with a small pleased smile, using an obsidian knife to prepare the fruits. “You can make the morning tea.”

“Oh, getting some of the weirder ones again I see,” said Aziraphale, looking over the selection curiously. “I don’t recognize this one?”

“Dragon fruit. And this one is a tomato. Pretty sure neither one of them comes from a tree.”

This was a conversation they’d had many times and Aziraphale hid their smile behind a bite of tomato. “But the Tree is the primordial Tree of Life, the ideal from which all things grow.”

Crawly popped a piece of dragon fruit into their mouth. “Cactus don’t grow from trees! And that’s a kind of nightshade!”

“It’s a very tasty nightshade,” Aziraphale said, eating another piece when Crawly playfully glared. “And some cactus resemble trees...”

Crawly sputtered. “That’s, that’s not how it works at all!”

“And yet.” Aziraphale laughed quietly as Crawly flopped back onto the rock with a dramatic groan and finished the dragon fruit.

“Go on, angel, say it. I know you want to.”

Aziraphale finished the tomato and said very primly, “It’s ineffable.” Another dramatic groan, drawn out as Crawly pretended to expire purely for Aziraphale’s amusement. When their laughter faded Aziraphale laid back on the rock beside Crawly.

“The ineffable plan will be the effin’ end of me,” Crawly predicted, ensuring their auras were tightly contained while letting their wings unfurl just the slightest, letting their primaries just barely brush against Aziraphale’s.

A pause, then the slightest rustle of Aziraphale’s wings unfurling to allow just their feathers to interlace with Crawly’s in a way no mere mortal feathers could. “I think it will be the end of everything, but also the beginning,” Aziraphale said lowly. They stayed there the rest of the night, staring up at the moon, the shimmering white feathers interlaced with iridescent black.


	5. Garden Party

“Crawly… are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

The black-winged angel looked over Aziraphale’s shoulder, jaw dropping open in shock. There was a giraffe browsing on one of the normal trees below their perch on the wall. Inside the garden. “What in the world?”

There was a sudden trumpeting call, and they shared a horrified look and awe-stepped down towards the Tree, staring in shock as they passed animal after animal, generally in pairs, sometimes in larger groups. It was with a momentary sense of relief that they found the animals were all avoiding even coming close to the Tree, but just to be sure they quickly gathered up all the fallen fruit and set up a magical barrier just to ensure they couldn’t get closer.

“Do we dare leave to see what’s going on?” Aziraphale asked, staring and shaking their head in shock as a small herd of elephants demolished one of the non-magical fruit trees.

“I can go, I’m supposed to be ‘off duty’ during the day anyway,” Crawly pointed out.

“No, we’ll call them, let them come to us this time. If we’re the ‘ _Guards so Guard_ ’, then we’re going to stay here guarding,” groused Aziraphale under their breath, summoning up all the ingredients needed to create a speaking circle. They considered going into the chamber but immediately discarded the idea with a sense of dread- something told them it was best if Heaven didn’t know they knew about that strange room and its lost relics.

Instead they had Crawly clear an area of the moss, turning it to flat black rock. If Aziraphale rushed the spell a bit, smudging a line or two, it didn’t matter with the sheer amount of furious energy they channeled into it, powering through any mistakes there might have been. “I seek guidance from a higher authority!” they snapped when the spell was complete.

“Uh, hello?” The voice had the same startled quality as someone disturbed from their bath.

“Yes, this is Aziraphale-”

“And Crawly.”

“From down in the Garden! There’s suddenly animals everywhere!”

“Oh, er...” There was muffled conversation that they couldn’t make out, what definitely sounded like snickers and the voice returned. “Yes, orders from upstairs. New phase in development you see. Just carry on as you were. You’re the Guardians-”

“THEY’RE DESTROYING THE GARDEN,” Aziraphale roared, and you could have heard a pin drop, if pins had been invented yet. Even the animals had stopped to stare. “If they are NOT brought under CONTROL I will be forced to KILL THEM, and it is WRITTEN that NONE in the GARDEN shall PERISH. So SOMEONE had better SORT IT OUT or will I come up there and DO IT MYSELF!”

Aziraphale stood panting next to the circle, glaring upwards, the echoes of their voice bouncing through the Garden as there was a flurry of worried voices and the shuffling of paper and a voice being raised in hysteria suddenly cut off with a click and replaced with the faint tinkling music of the celestial harmonies. “HELLO?”

“I think they put us on hold,” said Crawly, still staring in utter awe. Aziraphale looked towards Crawly, smiling just a bit at the black-winged angel’s huge pleased grin. Silently Crawly mouthed, “I think you’ve put the fear of _you_ into them.”

Aziraphale didn’t bother to keep their voice down. “Good! This is ridiculous! And how do they think the Almighty is going to react when they find out about this?!”

At that point there was another click and a different voice came through, hissing for quiet before they spoke. “Hello? Guardians of the Garden of Eden?”

“Archangel Gabriel?”

“Yes. I have just been informed of this terrible mistake, seems the delivery folks went looking for you but they couldn’t find you. Seems you were up on the wall together instead of one of you guarding the Tree? But I just want to assure you that the animals will be taken care of and the damage repaired, fear not! Ha ha, that’s my little joke. We’ll make sure they won’t distract you too much from your _very strenuous_ duties. Is there anything else you need? We really were in a quite important meeting.” There was another spate of snickers in the background that were quickly hushed.

Aziraphale’s face had gone red with fury and Crawly thought it best they step in before the white-winged angel got them both smited back to kingdom come. “Aw, that’s great Gabe, just in time, ol’ Aziraphale had the flaming sword out and everything.” Crawly turned away to yell into the distance, “Oi, Aziraphale! Gabe’s got it sorted out! Yeah, no, no need to smite anyone!”

“Anyway, thought you’d like to know it’s been a few weeks since the last attack. You know, can’t be too vigilant since the last time one of us was alone we almost had to get a new body sent down. I think it was Sandy who ordered us to stay together, isn’t that right Sandy? Would have been a right proper mess you’d be dealing with if we’d had to flambé and fricassee all the Almighty’s work because of this little oversight. And then if we’d been busy with repelling invaders and one of the animals had _damaged the Tree_? Imagine the paperwork! Close call, that one, whew,” and they kicked over a candle and scuffed the marks, breaking the connection.

There was a breathless moment before bright white light flooded the Garden, and as fast as that the damage had been repaired and the animals no longer feeling hunger or thirst, nor had the drive to hunt or procreate. Aziraphale inhaled deeply in relief and slowly blew out their breath. “Thank you, Crawly. I don’t know what I might have said if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling you were at the end of your rope. So, just me or are you getting the feeling they want us to fail?” Aziraphale nodded, scowling at the circle. “What’s up with that?”

“Did you get what they let slip though? _They’ve been watching us!_ They knew we were at the wall together. The utter gall! They probably knew when I’d been hurt and had a grand laugh about it! What if you hadn’t known about those healing herbs?”

“Bastards,” hissed Crawly. “Do you think they’re watching us now?” The black-winged angel looked skyward with a sneer, but a knot of fear formed in their stomach.

“No. The Tree and all beneath its canopy are hidden from scrying, even Heavenly scrying. I tested it one of the times I went up to report.”

“Why? Test it, I mean?”

The white-winged angel’s face went bright red again. “Oh, well, I uh, I wanted to, to be sure we had privacy, if we, uh, you know, wanted it?” Aziraphale felt almost faint, being so bold, asking without asking if the black-winged angel would be interested in an official bond.

Crawly’s eyes went wide and they looked away, their own face getting hot, but they nodded. “Oh, right, right, good idea, yeah, _yes_. I, uh, I sure appreciate that.” They stood awkwardly for a moment before stooping to begin cleaning up the circle. “Best not leave this sitting around.”

“No, right, that’s all we need, accidentally sending up a pile of elephant dung.” Crawly broke into a grin and Aziraphale snorted but shook their head. “No, we will not do that, no matter how much they deserve it. But it’s fun to imagine.”

Crawly looked up, eyes alight with mischief. “I bet we could deliver it right to Gabriel’s desk.”

“No!” Aziraphale frowned severely at the suggestion, but laughter crinkled their eyes. “Don’t tempt me. Would serve them right, though.”

“Ooh, no, even better, lion poop. Just a little one? Imagine them dealing with the smell.”

Aziraphale laughed but it quickly faded. “They might be able to hear us, when we’re not under here. We’ll have to be careful what we say.”

Crawly made a face but nodded. “Do you… Do you think we should pretend to not be friends?”

“I, I don’t know. Maybe? Why are they doing this? I don’t understand this.”

“They need someone to take the blame when the Garden fails,” growled Crawly, reaching over and lacing their fingers with Aziraphale’s. “That’s what this is all about isn’t it? I remember the complaints about Eden, about the Garden.”

Aziraphale nodded, staring down at their clasped hands. “We’ll have to be more careful.”

“I have an idea.” That light of mischief was back in their eyes, and it drew out Aziraphale’s smile.

“Yes, I was rather worried you might.”

And the plan was this: the others, being non-corporeal, would likely have no idea how to differentiate between a real animal, or one of them shape shifted to look like a real animal. Being bound into corporeal form actually made them harder to detect to celestial senses, as evidenced by Aziraphale’s accidental spying on the first day. No way Hastur would have allowed that had they known. So, pick normal enough animals and they’d be almost undetectable by angelic spying.

“But how will we know if they’ve noticed anything?” asked Aziraphale, eyes going wide when Crawly’s grin curled into what they could only call unholy glee. “Crawly, no.”

“Crawly, yesss,” they hissed, shifting into a light colored Arabian sand boa, to not stand out too much against Aziraphale’s clothes. “You know it’s a good idea.”

“I highly doubt that.” Aziraphale let out a heavy sigh but gently gathered them up, trying not to chuckle at their odd appearance, hesitating for a moment before holding them up to their shoulder. “You’ll need to hold on.”

Crawly gently curled themself around Aziraphale’s neck, resting their head below their left ear. “This okay?”

“Mmhmm. So, where do you think?”

“South. The lake.”

“Hold on.” Aziraphale pressed a hand gently to Crawly’s back and pulled on their power to awe-step farther than they ever had before, bringing them leagues away from the Tree, far outside the bounds of the Garden. They stumbled a little, feeling winded, and looked around as the nearest water birds all whirred into the air in alarm. They were standing on the edge of a large lake, a mass of birds wheeling overhead, the air full of their cries and swarms of insects.

“It’s so sssodding bright,” Crawly hissed and Aziraphale lifted their hands to shield both their eyes. “Thanksss.”

There was a sudden rush of power and an archangel manifested nearby, terrifying the rest of the animals into fleeing. “Aziraphale! Why are you outside the garden? Abandoning your duty?” accused Ligur, aswirl with smug superiority. “Running like a coward?”

The white-winged angel licked their lips and said hoarsely and honestly, “We thought there was something dangerous. Had to check.”

“Oh. At least Crawly kept to their post this time. Don’t dawdle,” they said sullenly, vanishing.

Aziraphale pretended to look around before awe-stepping back into the unscryable space beneath the Tree’s canopy. “Are you comfortable? May as well stay there until nightfall.”

“I’m going to shift into something better able to deal with the sun,” Crawly said. Power shivered through their skin and they grew slightly into a light brown horned viper.

“At least you won’t twist your ankles this way,” murmured Aziraphale, supporting Crawly again as they walked away from the Tree, keeping an eye out for any pitfalls of an odoriferous nature.

“That’sss what I was thinking! Ssso, what shape will you wear tonight?”

“Something bigger,” Aziraphale decided, stroking a gentle finger over Crawly’s back when they felt them sigh. “Are you cold? Snakes are sensitive to cold aren’t they?”

“Oh, n- uh... maybe a little,” Crawly said, hissing with pleasure when Aziraphale carefully rested their warm hands on their back, their thumbs slowly stroking over their scales. “That’sss lovely.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’m happy to hear it, my dear.”

When evening fell, they returned to the Tree. Crawly returned to their bipedal form and began picking up the fallen fruit while Aziraphale decided on what they were going to turn into. There was a snap of fingers and a deep chested huff and a massive golden cat that looked like a cross of leopard and a cheetah was sitting where Aziraphale had been.

“What do you think?”

Crawly paced around them, unconsciously reaching out a hand to touch their fur, almost pulling their hand away in embarrassment when Aziraphale pushed the top of their head against the black-winged angel’s hand. “Oh, you’re so soft,” they breathed, shifting to bury both hands in the ruff of fur around their neck. “Why so big thought?”

“So you can lean on me if you need to,” said Aziraphale, looking up at Crawly with golden eyes. “Should we test them again? West?”

Crawly nodded, leaving one hand buried in their fur and ‘Stepping them beyond the Western Gate, onto the expansive plains of Eden, abuzz with life. The stars were just starting to come out, and again almost no time passed before they sensed the presence of an archangel and Gabriel was there lighting up the area and scaring everything quiet.

“Serpent, why have you left the garden?” Gabriel demanded. “You must guard the garden!”

“Hey Gabe,” drawled Crawly, their fingers tightening in Aziraphale’s fur. “Just had to check something out. The Things keep coming from this way, you know. Very dangerous.”

“The rules are meant to be followed _without question_ ,” the archangel said harshly. “You’ll learn your lesson soon enough, mark my words.”

“And when you twist the rules around to mean whatever you want them to mean?” Crawly asked, looking up at the sky, knowing it would annoy Gabriel, who considered it disrespectful to look away when speaking with someone. “What lesson does that teach?”

“At least that fool Aziraphale knows how to keep a civil tongue.” The archangel vanished.

“Well, that’s ironic,” growled Aziraphale lowly, leaning against Crawly’s side. “Jerk.”

Crawly laughed, digging their fingers into the fur beneath Aziraphale’s ear, grinning when they started to purr. “C’mon angel, let’s go for a little walk, hmm? It’s a nice night for it.”

Aziraphale was peeved enough to agree after only a token protest, and they headed east, towards where the Western Gate in the Garden wall towered.

It was the first of a great many forays into Eden and the wider world.


	6. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their time in the garden draws to a close.

In their timeless guarding, the angels chased off more monstrous Things from other dimensions and risked wandering farther and farther from the Garden. It was returning from one such journey that they discovered the sudden installation of a pair of curious young humans and were given neither warning or explanation. When they tried to ask their respective bosses, they were given familiar non-answers and told to mind their business. The exact wrong thing to say, or perhaps right thing, depending on who you ask.

In human guise, Aziraphale taught them the niceties of society, the laws that people create and keep to let them live together in harmony, the stories about why things are the way they are. Also in human seeming, Crawly taught them the secret ways of the animals and the sky, that questions need to be asked even when there isn't a ready answer. That sometimes rules should be broken. It was an idyllic time, but as the days passed both angels could sense a growing restlessness in the humans, a need for more than just each other and their teachers and the tame beasts of the Garden.

Aziraphale, wings out and basking in the sun after a long day of being hidden from the humans, was walking along the eastern wall, deep in thought. Crawly was draped around Aziraphale's shoulders in a snake form, also basking in the sun as well as the warmth of Aziraphale's shoulders and the comfortable silence of long time friendship. They knew something was bothering the white-winged angel but that Aziraphale would talk when they were ready.

"I'm worried. That something bad is going to happen."

Crawly started from their doze. "Yess, I've been having that feeling as well." Crawly couldn't help but think about how much the humans had grown and changed in the brief time they'd known them. "Shouldn't there have been something from upstairs by now? About what to do with them?"

"They're too clever to be stuck in here forever with nothing to do. You see how they sigh wistfully when we talk about making things, about hunting and farming and exploring. They know almost every nook and cranny of the Garden." The only place they didn't know was the relic chamber.

"Yes, exactly! We can at least go out into Eden if we're bored, or even upstairs to socialize if we were really desperate." Crawly agreed. They had never been that desperate. "I mean, the animals are pretty content to be kept alive with miracles and even they're getting bored."

"Your idea of having races was really inspired, though I think we're going to have to put the cheetahs and gazelles in race by themselves."

"Yeah, probably." Crawly tasted the air, sensing something in the distance. "Do you taste that?"

"I think you mean smell," corrected Aziraphale, taking in a deep breath. "That… that's, rain?"

"Yeah." They shared a long look. "It's never rained."

Aziraphale swore and awe-stepped off the wall back to the Tree, Crawly clinging tightly to their shoulders, skidding to a stop at the edge of the Metatron's crackling power where it hovered over the cowering humans, a ripe red fruit on the ground between them, like a splash of blood. " ** _-from this Tree you may not take, and you shall be punished unto death!_** "

The angels flung themselves between the Metatron and the two terrified young humans, both of them subsuming their corporeal forms to reveal their celestial selves. Crawly expanded into a massive fiery winged serpent that constantly coiled in on itself, Aziraphale rising radiant into the air with an ever shifting array of wings, the sword somehow unsheathed and aflame in their hand.

" ** _STOP!_** " they commanded in unison.

" ** _Move aside! They have taken of the Tree without permission!_** "

" ** _Fruit that has fallen is given, not taken,_** " Crawly protested.

" _ **Don't play silly buggers with me, serpent! They have earned their demise!**_ "

" _ **It is written that none in the Garden shall perish,**_ " Aziraphale responded.

" ** _Who are you to defy me? I am Metatron! It is written!_** "

And the two very brave and foolish angels shared a brief look and said, " ** _Prove it._** "

**∞**

Eve, dressed in swathes of white and black cloth, gently held the tiny snake close, walking as fast as she could over the treacherous root-bound ground, nodding as it hissed directions into her ear. She gathered up everything as she was told and hurried to the north, where Adam, dressed much as Eve was, was busily making a hole in the wall with the aid of a giant golden ox. The gates had been sealed by the Metatron in a fit of pique before they retreated to consult with the Council of Heaven about where exactly it was written.

High above them, standing on the top of the wall, two illusionary decoy angels carried out whatever inane dialog the true angels, in their distracted state, could mentally manage. The two humans gave them teary heartfelt goodbyes before escaping out into Eden to a place the angels knew would shelter them from the coming storm. With a bit more magical trickery they slipped inside their illusions, resuming their usual forms just as the rain began to fall. Aziraphale lifted their wing over Crowley when they shivered as the cold drops began falling in greater numbers. They stood vigil on the wall until they could see the two young humans no more and dejected and drenched, they returned to the safety of the Tree.

They sat in silence for a long while, the storm raging overhead, but little rain reached them beneath the shelter of the Tree. "Did we do the wrong thing?" Aziraphale finally asked.

"I mean, it was probably the stupid thing, but wrong…" Crawly made a face and shrugged. "More so, did we do the right thing? We sent them off into the world with barely anything-"

"We taught them all we could. And they have the sword. And the other things..?"

"I was wondering if you'd meant it. Yes, I had her take them. Why, though?"

Aziraphale frowned but shook their head, tears welling in their eyes. "I don't know, it just felt important that they not be left here. I think… I think this is going to be our last night here." Together. Words lodged in their throat, but fear kept them from speaking and they turned away, ashamed.

Crawly nodded, looking down at the rock they were sitting on, knowing in their heart it was true. After what they had done, there was no way they would go unpunished for long. Their eyes were drawn to Aziraphale's back, watching the storm, their wings and clothes still drenched with rain, and Crawly realized this was likely their only chance. "Aziraphale?"

The white-winged angel turned back to them, moving to sit beside them, eyes questioning when the black-winged angel just stared at them. "Crawly? Did you need something?"

 _Now or never_ , said a voice in Crawly's mind. "I seek a boon, Aziraphale." The words crackled with power. It was part of the primordial ceremony for creating a bond between two celestials. It could only be dissolved by an unsaying, of disavowing the bond and renouncing the oath, but it could be refused and Crawly's heart was in their eyes.

Aziraphale's eyes went wide and soft and they mouthed in surprise, _You do?_ but said aloud the proper response, "Ask and be heard, Crawly, I attend you."

The black-winged angel gave them a tumultuous relieved smile, continuing the ritual. "I seek to forge a bond between us, an arrangement of mutual trust."

Aziraphale quickly nodded in agreement and smiled. "Once forged it may never be sundered[1]."

Crawly offered their hand. "Shoulder to shoulder[2]."

Aziraphale clasped Crawly's hand and spoke the final phrase. "My wings to yours[3]."

Ethereal power swept through them and knocked the breath from both of them. Overhead the storm seemingly redoubled with a thunderous crash in response and giant hailstones began to tear through the leaves, sending them fleeing into the stone chamber.

It took only a touch of magic to set the crystals glowing, and they both found that without the relics, the sense of disquiet they had always felt was gone. They had cleaned it up early on, and had eventually used it to store the fallen fruit and their tea making things, and Crawly had made a pallet for Aziraphale to rest on when the Thing had injured them. They stood together next to the cushion for a long moment before Aziraphale asked lowly, "May I groom your wings for you Crawly?"

"Oh, but-" That was quite a departure from the etiquette, as usually the one who asks is the one who does the first tending. But they had been tending to one another’s wings for a long time now, and politeness was for strangers, not the best of friends. 

"I'm sure I still owe you for making tea the other day." Aziraphale's eyes crinkled a little, inviting Crawly in on the joke.

"Oh, yes, a rather heavy debt." They smiled crookedly and sat down on the pallet, unfurling their wings when Aziraphale sat down behind them. "If you insist."

"I very much do," Aziraphale murmured. They could feel the bond, shimmering through their outer auras, almost but not quite mingling them together, hovering around them like the lingering warmth of a hug, and their throat ached with regret that they hadn’t had the courage to ask Crawly for the privilege sooner. “Your wings really are lovely, my dear. Black suits you.”

"You flatter me, angel." Crawly had their eyes closed, trying to commit every moment and sensation to memory, a painful ache over their heart at the knowledge that this was the end of their time together. That the bond, so new but somehow familiar, would never be given a chance to deepen once they were separated.

They sat in silence as Aziraphale tenderly set Crawly's feathers to rights, taking care to smooth each one, shifting around to do the same for the inner feathers and stopping when they saw the tears running down Crawly's face. "Oh, Crawly, I don't know what I will do without you," Aziraphale confessed, unable to stop their own tears from falling, lacing their fingers with Crawly's.

Crawly opened their eyes, which seemed to glow in the dim interior, and swore, "I will find you, wherever, whenever you need me. My wings to yours."

"My wings to yours," Aziraphale echoed. "I will always be there for you. Always."

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Interestingly this is incorrect, it should be " _may it never_ be sundered" but then, they weren't wrong. [▲]
> 
> 2\. A poor translation from the original Celestial, but in essence means treating each other as equals. [▲]
> 
> 3\. I trust you to guard my back[4] and I will guard yours.[▲]
> 
> 4\. Another weird translation since non-corporeal being don't really have "backs" per se, but you get the idea.


	7. Sowing The Seeds

Morning did come to the Garden eventually, and it was almost unrecognizable; the greenery shredded by the wind and hail, a portion of the Garden drowned beneath the flooded spring and the temperature had dropped low enough for frost to have formed. It was utterly still once the wind died away, with no sign of any of the animals, as though they'd been spirited away in the night.

The Tree had fared no better than the rest of the Garden with most of the leaves shorn off or shredded, every bloom torn apart and scattered, and where there had been ripening fruit were blackened scorch marks.

It was well after dawn when the storm finally blew over and the two angels reluctantly left their sanctuary under the Tree. They stared in horror at the devastation, at a loss for what to do.

"Why destroy the fruit?" murmured Crawly, realizing there wasn't even any on the ground, just more scorch marks.

"Did they destroy the animals too?" worried Aziraphale, throwing out their senses but not able to find anything at all within the Garden. Thankfully there weren't any bodies or scorch marks but it was cold comfort.

"Seems a bit much, don't it?" Crawly slid their hand into Aziraphale's.

"Yes," whispered Aziraphale, clasping their hand tightly. "I, uh, I guess we should we fix the wall?"

Crawly shrugged. "It's something to do."

They started from the interior and worked outwards, with Aziraphale working towards the outer side and Crawly towards the inner. They were still there when the light shone down from above and the black-winged angel ended up overhearing the whole conversation Aziraphale had with the Almighty. When the holy light was gone Crawly awe-stepped through the wall, staring at the white-winged angel in shock, grabbed their hand and awe-stepped back to the safety of the Tree. "Aziraphale! _Must have put it down somewhere?!_ "

"I panicked!" Aziraphale wailed, wringing their hands together. "Why did I do that, oh, I'm so dead, aren't I?"

Crawly took Aziraphale's hands. "No, hey, look at me. I'm pretty sure there would be no doubt if the Almighty were done with us, right? I mean," they gestured at the destruction of the Garden, "right?"

Aziraphale let out a slow breath and nodded. "Right, right... so, I guess we wait?"

"It's not like we can fix this." Hand in hand they walked to their spot and sat, shoulders pressed together, shivering in the ominous quiet.

Unbeknownst to anyone, miraculously sheltered from the wrathful storm between the twined Tree trunks, there was one small fruit, rimed with frost and rapidly growing to ripeness.

 _Pock_. It was an infinitesimal noise that on any other day would have been impossible to hear, but in the unnatural silence it seemed thunderous. The angels looked up for the source of the noise, looking around as there was another minute sound of something hard bouncing off of wood. A rustle of leaves and, "Ow!" as something thumped off of Aziraphale's head into Crawly's right temple and the angels fumbled to catch it before it could hit the ground. Crawly held open their hand and stared in surprise. "An apple? But the Tree's never grown apples before?"

It was small with a skin of mottled gold and red but it gleamed like it was made of glass. Aziraphale smiled sadly. "Maybe the Tree's trying to make up for the potato thing?"

Crawly snorted and pulled out their little obsidian knife, splitting the apple neatly in two, giving half to Aziraphale. "To finally giving us the perfect fruit."

"To the perfect fruit," smiled the white-winged angel. They bit into it at the same time, and it _was_ perfect, perfectly ripe, with the perfect ratio of sweet to tart, crisp and delicious. "Ow, what the..." Aziraphale spat out the hard thing they'd had the misfortune to bite down on.

"I do not like that!" Crawly complained, poking at the object that had gotten wedged between their teeth. "Did any of the others have seeds?" they asked, holding it up in the light and realizing it was iridescent.

Aziraphale stared at the seed in their palm, where it gleamed like nugget of gold. "No, never."

The angels exchanged a confused look and turned to stare at the Tree, which suddenly lit up with an eerie glow. Crawly sucked in a knowing breath and awe-stepped away with Aziraphale, both of them getting knocked into each other and off their feet as the thunderous blast of the Tree being smited caught up with them.

**∞**

When they got their wits back about them what they noticed first was a bright blue sky filled with non-corporeal angels. Second they noticed they were inside the still smoldering hollowed out base of the Tree. Thirdly they realized they somehow still had the tiny seeds clasped in their hands.

“Are they aware yet? Ah yes, we’re ready now,” said Sandalphon.

“The angels known as Aziraphale and, ahem ‘ _Crawly_ ’ will stand judgment before the High Court of Heaven, for insubordination, dereliction of duty and the corruption of the humans. Now stand!”

Crawly’s lip curled in a sneer as they climbed to their feet and began to brush themself off, using the movement to drop the iridescent seed in front of Aziraphale. The black-winged angel flared their wings into a rather aggressive pose as a distraction, as Aziraphale quickly dropped the golden seed beside the iridescent one and covered them with a handful of dirt as they pushed themself up. The white-winged angel stepped on the little mound they had made, squared their shoulders and flared their wings as Crawly had, holding up their hand.

“I beg your pardon, uh…?”

A sigh. “Archangel Phanuel.”

“I beg your pardon, Archangel Phanuel, but I really must protest-”

“Silence! You were seen on numerous occasions to be walking around the Garden together, leaving no one guarding the Tree. There’s no way you can justify-”

“Sandalphon told us to stay together if we were ‘too cowardly to be alone’!” snapped Crawly.

“There were threats coming at us from beyond the wall!” protested Aziraphale.

“Yes, well, when there were no threats, one of you was to stay with the Tree,” sneered Phanuel.

“Really? And when were we supposed to rest?” asked Crawly, and in the second row someone groaned in dismay.

“What?” Phanuel asked suspiciously.

“They asked, when were we allowed to rest? I was told that I was to rest at night while Crawly was to guard. Big on rest, the Almighty, isn’t that correct?” Aziraphale asked the assembled angels. They took a deep breath and asked, “Was this a lie?”

If non-corporeal beings could gasp in outrage, the arrayed archangels would have. As it was the susurration they caused was enough to stir up the embers and ash around the two small corporeal angels. “Angels do not lie!”

Crawly did not look at Aziraphale. “Really? Did we forget what resting means, Aziraphale?”

“I don’t believe so, Crawly. For resting is to cease to work in order to renew and refresh oneself after a period of strenuous activity,” Aziraphale said primly, ignoring the heat on their face. “Is this not so?”

Another, louder susurration stirred up the ash and embers, dusting Crawly’s black robe with pale streaks and singeing Aziraphale’s white robe with dark smudges. “How could you be resting while together? You are too different!” said another of the angels.

“We are also alone,” said Aziraphale. “These bodies do not like being alone. So we have had to be alone together.” Aziraphale’s eyes were drawn to the stiffly upright figure beside them, their black wings still flared as though prepared for a fight. “But Crawly is very restful company, and I’d have it no other way.”

Crawly had to look at Aziraphale then, giving them just a hint of a smile. “Aziraphale never ceases to amaze me. I’d have gone absolutely mad with boredom if they weren’t here.”

“Boredom? What is this boredom?”

A look of consternation passed between them. How to explain something so mundane to beings who had never even dealt with _gravity_? “It’s a failing of the corporeal brain,” said Aziraphale. “There are only so many times it can process the same thing before it tires and rejects all further instances of the same processes until it has recovered. The animals experienced it to some degree and the humans were extremely prone to it.” Crawly gave them a look and Aziraphale shrugged, raising their eyebrows to ask if they had any better explanation. “It took everything we had to keep them occupied or they might have torn the Garden apart looking for something new to do.”

“For my money, it’s the gravity,” Crawly added with a smirk. “A sodding menace, to be honest.”

A great many scoffing noises issued forth at that, and Aziraphale recognized the gleam in Crawly’s eye. The white-winged angel realized immediately what the black-winged angel was thinking and found themself frowning to cover the grin that wanted to escape. “You’re probably right, my, er, compatriot. We should probably get a commendation for dealing with the gravity alone.”

“Ha, right?! And a promotion! No one else’s as brave as us, what with the gravity and the rocks and the Things, and the blasted animals everywhere.” A sidelong look at Hastur, who was churning with agitation had Crawly’s grin going even sharper. “We’re just lowly guards after all. It’s not as though you ever sent us any help.”

“Just us two, the _lowliest_ of the Host. Guarding the _whole_ of the Almighty’s creation. _Alone_.” Beneath the calm tone, Aziraphale’s fury leaked through.

“Makes you wonder who made that decision, doesn’t it?” said Crawly. “And why?”

That silenced the assembled angels rather neatly, and if they had had bums and chairs, they might have been shifting around uncomfortably from the seats beginning to get a little hot. “Oh, well, we were, uh, quite confident in your abilities to deal with one small garden. I mean, you are angels after all.” said Raphael.

“ _Small_ being entirely relative, of course,” Aziraphale said, almost apologetically. “Do you know how long it takes to move a body from one gate to the other at normal walking speed? Half the day! And while the awe-step is useful for speed, it uses twice the energy walking does. That means needing _more rest._ ”

“And yeah, sure, we can go completely non-corporeal, but that takes even more energy, doesn’t it?” Crawly added. “Especially if we want a body to wear again when we’re done. Seems there’s a lot of paperwork and red tape to get issued a new one if this one gets broken, eh Uriel?”

“Unfortunately, since we needed to guard effectively in this dimension, we could not spend our days in the ethereal plane twiddling our wings to waft about amongst the stars, now could we? Gravity, like responsibility, is _unavoidable_ , and if we must fight a corporeal Thing, so must we stay corporeal.”

“Isn’t that right Hastur?” Crawly called. “Isn’t that what you told me? Might not remember much, but that one’s pretty clear in my mind. Need a body to affect the world you told me, eh?”

There was a drawn out silence as the angels milled about, trying to figure out how they had lost the upper hand in what had seemed like a very clear cut case against the two small but defiant angels. Apparently none of them had decided to remember the futures in which they didn’t get their way. “It can’t be that bad.”

Aziraphale’s eyes blazed in triumph, but the angels did not recognize it and assumed the two corporeal angels folding in their wings and making them incorporeal was a sign of resignation. “You’re welcome to prove us wrong, if you think you can,” drawled Crawly, inventing the dare.

**∞**

Another interesting fact about celestial beings: the more powerful they are, the harder the transition to corporeal form is for them to adjust to. Humans typically get a handful of years of crying and peeing their pants to grow into to their senses, and then a decade’s worth of fine tuning and another decade of putting on the finishing touches. Instead we have phenomenal cosmic power in an itty bitty living brain, suddenly dealing with gravity and locomotion and limited input that is still so very overwhelming; Touch! Balance! Vision! Sound! Temperature! And that’s not even taking into account the emotions involved.

What the angels didn’t really comprehend was that life has a way of, metaphorically speaking, getting under your skin. Each moment inside their bodies--the beating heart, the rush of blood, every puff of breath, all those senses wide open to a world they had never been able to experience before--was another anchor pulling them back. Life is a hard habit to break and even if they did break it, the changes wrought could not be undone. Memories mangled beneath the steamroller of the senses were compressed into the tentative footing on which those fragile new bodies stood.

This was exactly what Crawly and Aziraphale had been banking on, and the gamble had paid off.

It was complete and utter chaos. A cacophonous tangle of feathers and limbs and a hundred voices crying out in shock when aura-projecting wing brushed aura-projecting wing and sent overwhelming sensations through unfamiliar flesh. It was a hurricane of confusion and emotions and ancient celestial beings being suddenly subjected to gravity and corporeality, and in the center of the storm stood two trembling angels who could not risk looking at each other for fear of losing control and the very dangerous game they were playing. Crawly was crying from the effort to not give in to the laughter that wanted to break free. “Now what?” Aziraphale murmured, wiping at their tears with one hand and surreptitiously sliding their other hand into Crawly’s under the cover of chaos.

“Now we wait and see what they remember.” They stood shoulder to shoulder, clasped hands hidden in the folds of their robes, waiting for the others to get themselves into some semblance of order. There were tears and laughter and a few, including Archangel Phanuel, abandoned their corporeal forms and fled in horror from the experience and the sun was beginning to get low in the sky when the sudden presence of Gabriel brought fearful silence.

“What is the meaning of this?!” they demanded.

There was a lot of sheepish shuffling and staring down at the ground and the universal shrug of corporeal bafflement traveled through the crowd like a ripple in a pond. They had enacted the first instance of doing foolish things without fully understanding why, a tradition still carried on today by people throughout the universe.

“They decided that to _properly_ enact justice, the entire Court has to understand the limitations of corporeality,” said Aziraphale honestly, beaming up hopefully. They had a shivering sense that things could go very badly indeed in the next few moments, and Crawly’s hand tightened convulsively in theirs, showing they also had that sense of foreboding. “Of course gravity does take some getting used to, just like you said!”

Gabriel... hesitated. This wasn’t at all how they premembered things going. “And what was the verdict?” they asked.

There was a moment of almost palpable panic before Crawly said, “They didn’t come to one. How could they, without you? You _are_ part of the High Court, aren’t you?” A sea of relieved faces nodded in agreement.

“Oh.” Another hesitation. “Well… if that’s what the Court has decided.” Of course the form Gabriel took was slightly bigger than any of the others, and they staggered around a bit, apologizing profusely when their wings brushed against another’s. “So sorry, wow, that, uh, very _intense_ , isn’t it? Oh, I’m shaking. Why am I shaking? And my face is wet? Why is my face wet? Is that normal?”

“Oh yes,” said Aziraphale kindly, squeezing Crawly’s hand warningly when they hissed in triumph. “Definitely takes a while to get used to, we’ve found! It’ll pass soon.”

“That, that’s good,” said Gabriel, almost poking themself in the eye if not for one of the others stopping them and murmuring lowly in their ear. “Right, the judgment! I… You, Guardians of the Garden...”

“Retired now, of course, now that there’s no Tree to guard,” said Crowley, sadness in their voice as they gestured at the wreckage.

“Kicked the humans right out too,” added Aziraphale. “Seems like more than enough punishment, as weak and vulnerable as they are. Probably be discorporated soon, what with all the, er, snakes and uh, lions, and-” Aziraphale stopped when Crawly elbowed them sharply in the side. “Seems the Almighty has abandoned this project, doesn’t it?”

Gabriel frowned, but couldn’t remember why that didn’t seem quite right. “Well, yes, I suppose so. Right, uh, then that’s all settled! Your superiors will have new assignments for you, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget you ever met. Better yet, make sure they’re kept apart, hmm?” Gabriel said to the others in a voice they thought was quiet, before they all ascended back to Heaven, leaving just Aziraphale and Crawly amid the smoldering ruin of the Tree.

Before they could say or do anything, a bright white light shone down, blinding with its intensity and when it was gone, so too were the remains of the Garden, leaving them alone on a small nondescript outcrop in the middle of what had been known as Eden. They also had their new assignments and they shared sad looks before unclasping their hands. “I’m to work in the library,” said Aziraphale lowly.

“Back to working with the weather workers,” Crawly sneered. Most of them were just air-headed little elementals that couldn’t even string a sentence together. “Could be worse.”

“Yes,” shivered Aziraphale. “Much, much worse.”

“I guess we’d better go.” They stared at one another for a long moment before falling into a hug.

Aziraphale couldn’t risk saying all they wanted to say for fear of watchers, but dared to whisper, “Always.”

“Always.” They turned away from each other and ascended back into heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is probably the last chapter of this, I'm pretty sure. Mostly. Kinda. Might add more to the middle bits (like the potato thing) but it won't change the overarching story in any significant way.
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and all the lovely encouragement! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Ye Saga Continues in "Serpents And Ladders" as Crawly and Aziraphale adapt to life back in Heaven.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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